


Like We're Falling In Love

by HuntersMoon47



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Slow Burn, Smut, female rouge inquisitor, hints at abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2018-08-07 06:10:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 49
Words: 92,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7703539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HuntersMoon47/pseuds/HuntersMoon47
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evelyn Trevelyn has always wanted to be a hero, always wanted to help those in need, to make Thedas a better place. When she suddenly finds herself in the position to just that, she finds it much more difficult than she every imagined. She's used to doing things on her own, to keeping secrets and playing games just to get by but it may not be enough to get her through her new role. Especially when she finds herself falling for a golden-haired, honey-eyed Commander who has a history and secrets of his own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn Trevelyan, everyone
> 
> **as I was re-reading through my chapters (as I do from time to time) I noticed some typos and inconsistencies, so I have edited**

              Evelyn Trevelyan ran her fingers along the cold stone walls of the Temple of Sacred Ashes. She closed her eyes, reveling in the history of the place. Her footsteps were barely a whisper in the long, dimly lit hallway. It was quite in this part of the temple. The Conclave gathered in the main, restored parts of the ancient temple.

              She opened her eyes again to navigate the maze of corridors, wondering if these were the same passages the Hero of Fereldan had traversed. Evelyn grinned at the thought. To be so close to such history; such heroism, made her heart race.

              Turning the last corner, Evelyn slowed as she approached the two men waiting in the shadows. One wore the silver armor of the Templars, the Sword of Truth emblazoned on his chest plate. His dark brown hair was cropped short on the sides and just a bit longer on the top. He had grey-blue eyes and a harsh, angular face with a long scar running down his left cheek. The other donned battlemage armor of silk brocade and obsidian and even in the dark Evelyn could make out his bright blue eyes. His hair was a lighter shade of brown than the Templar's and pulled into a knot on the top of his head. A short, finely trimmed bread ran along his jawline. Unlike the other mages and Templars gathered here, these two were at ease in each other’s company, leaning casually against the wall. Evelyn smiled as she approached her brothers.

              “Is everything secure?” Lincoln, the fourth of Evelyn’s five brothers, asked. He pushed himself off the wall, his armor shining in the torchlight. Evelyn nodded.

              “For now,” she answered, adjusting the harness holding her throwing knives strapped across her back. “We have a few minutes before the guard rotation comes through this way.”

              “Good,” Killian said. He was second oldest of the Trevelyan brothers. He’d left for the Circle when his magic manifested at fourteen. Evelyn had only been seven at the time and devastated. Now, though, she was glad Killian had escaped the household then. Otherwise, her Grandfather Trevelyan would have had his claws in him, just like he had her oldest brother, Ruslan. Evelyn pushed the thought away when the familiar bitter anger boiled in her chest. “Everything is set then. I’ve spoken to the Left Hand. Her agents are ready to help keep the peace should the need arise.”

              “And the Right Hand?” Evelyn asked Lincoln.

              “She is running operations down in Haven, along with the Commander and Lady Nightengale. They will join us as soon as everyone is seated. Though, that will be several hours from now. Mages and Templars are still pouring in.” He paused and then smiled at Killian and then Evelyn. “I still can’t believe this is finally happening.”

              It had taken them a year. Both Killian and Lincoln had been voices for cooperation and understanding on both sides of the Templar-Mage tensions since before the rebellion began. It was Evelyn who had always been the courier of the letters between the two of them, sticking their letters to one another inside the ones she sent since the days when Lincoln first went to the Templars. The three of them kept a close eye on the rising tensions and the fighting that erupted after the explosion of the Chantry in Kirkwall. Then word came of rogue Templars moving toward Ostwick. Evelyn had stayed in the Circle there for a week before they came, her family name convincing the Knight-Commander to let her in. She’d fought alongside the mages and loyal Templars, listening to the screams of the dying and howling of betrayal as many Templars watched their brothers turn and fight with the rogues. The next day she’d written her brothers and insisted the bring in her into their plans to build a peace talk.

              “This couldn’t have happened without you, Evelyn,” Killian said softly. He reached out and pulled her into a hug, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “You always wanted to be a hero and now you are.”

              She squeezed her brother and then stepped back shaking her head.

              “I didn’t do anything but pass letters,” she said. Lincoln snorted.

              “And helped nearly twenty mages escape Ostwick,” he said. “Which is far more than any Circle that was raided by the rogue Templars.”

              “And helped several dozen Templars avoid the clutches of the rogues,” Killian added. Evelyn felt her cheeks reddening. “And made sure messages from those on the run reached their families. And took out that abomination in Lothering. And the blood mages in Jadar.”

              “All that while keeping us in touch with the Left and Right Hand so we could plan this Conclave,” Lincoln finished, clasping his hand on Evelyn’s shoulder. He was not one for hugs like Killian, but the gesture of affection was enough for her eyes to wet. She shook her head again.

              “Yes, well, feel free to write these praises down for all the world to here later,” she said, pushing away the swelling of emotion in her chest. “The guards will be around soon. How will the Ladies Seeker and Nightengale know who I am?”

              Though she’d been passing messages for the last year she had yet to meet the Left and Right Hand of the Divine. And that was just fine with her. She had no desire to get caught up in all the scheming and politicking that went on in the shadows of the Chantry. If she wanted to do that she could have just stayed at home.

              “Give them these.” Lincoln pulled a chain from around his neck and held it out to her. A sense of foreboding stirred in Evelyn’s chest as she took the chain from her brother. Two silver rings hung from it, each with the Trevelyan Crest pressed into it. Family legend said terrible things happened when a Trevelyn man parted with their family ring. It said nothing of what happened when Trevelyan women parted with theirs – the women did not get the honor of bearing a family ring. When she’d asked for one from Ruslan, he’d laughed at her. It was superstition; just an old story from an over-zealous, superstitious family. Still, she’d never seen any of the men in her family without their ring.

              “It’s just a silly old story, Evie,” Killian said, clearly noticing her trepidation. She snorted as she slipped the necklace over her head and tucked it inside her leather armor. The metal was cold against her skin.

              “I know that,” she retorted, sticking her tongue out. Killian rolled his eyes.

              “Mature, Lady Trevelyn,” he said.

              “Andraste’s tits, Killian, no one calls me that anymore,” she said, laughing. Not since she’d scared the last suitor her brother had forced upon her by demonstrating her skill with throwing knives - using the spoiled prick as a target; pinning him to the wall with knives through his silk clothes. Ruslan had been furious. She’d had the bruises on her arms from him dragging her through the house for nearly a month.

              “Could you not curse in the burial place of Andraste?” Lincoln begged. He didn’t know of Ruslan’s treatment, nor did Killian, and she preferred to keep it that way. The only brother she had left at home was Arden, the middle brother, and he’d crawled so far up Ruslan’s ass he wouldn’t see the abusive  behavior if he were looking for it. After that incident, Evelyn had decided she’d had enough. She took all her jewelry and her mother’s, emptied the safe her father had kept secret from all but her in his private library and took off. That had been four years ago.

              “Yeah, yeah,” Evelyn said, winking at Killian. “I’m going to take one last look through the back halls before I head down to the village. I’ll wait for your word.”

              “Don’t get distracted by all the old stuff, Little One,” Killian teased. Evelyn stuck her tongue out again and both of her brothers laughed as she turned down the shadowed hallway. Her brothers’ footsteps faded behind her and once again, she was left in the blessed quiet.

              There were times she wished she could feel the tingle of magic like Lincoln or Killian. Maybe she’d be able to feel the traces left in places like this; maybe she’d be able to hear their stories. Few torches burned here, casting long shadows as she moved down the hall, doing her best to not be distracted by old dusty books on shelves. She let her fingers trace over the spines, wishing she had time to stop and read just one. When the Conclave was done, she’d ask for permission to stay here, to go through the books and tomes and hundreds of rooms. Lincoln and Killian spoke highly of the Divine, of her kindness. Evelyn was sure the woman would allow her to stay.

              An echoing voice interrupted her thoughts. Evelyn paused and then slowly pulled her daggers from her belt and pressed herself against the wall, melting into the shadows. Silent and invisible, she crept down the hall and peered around the corner. A red light flashed underneath a door at the end of the hallway.

              Gripping her daggers tighter, the earlier sense of foreboding crept into her chest again. There was something wrong with that light. It was sick, evil. The hair on her arms stood on end. Her heart pounded. She did this all the time - sneaking through ruins, looking for treasure, offering protection for hire or free, in the need arose – but this didn’t feel right. She paused before the door, fear rolling through her.

              She was about to go find her brothers for help when she heard a cry from inside the room. A woman’s plea. The fear melted away and she pushed open the door.

              “What’s going on here?” She demanded.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reeling from events at the Conclave, Evelyn struggles to help any way she can

              “What do you mean, everyone is dead?” The question rolled around in Evelyn’s mind as she followed the Lady Seeker up the mountain, the sky glowing sickly green. Her body felt empty, numb. Everyone dead. Everyone. Lincoln. Killian.

    Somehow she spoke. Somehow she fought. Some basic instinct told her she had to. The world was torn open, and she had to do whatever she could to help. Her brothers would want her to do that. They had called her a hero. It was all she’d ever wanted – to do something that mattered; something that helped the world become a better place.

    So she put one foot in front of the other, pushing aside the tears and the grief and the anger. She let the elf show her how to the use the magical mark on her hand. She joked about the drawf’s crossbow. Life as a noble, as a Trevelyan, had taught her to fool those around her into thinking everything was okay, that nothing was eating away at her.  She glared at the Chancellor as he accused her of murder. Any other day the man would have earned a tirade of curses and a lecture on the corruption of the Chantry. Today she just flipped him off as she walked away. To lead a charge up the mountain side. Lady Evelyn Trevelyn leading troops into battle. Her mother would have been proud. Her grandfather would have been furious. She didn’t give two shits what Ruslan thought.

    The temple almost did her in. Almost shattered the quick and expertly built wall around her heart. The smell of burning flesh assaulted her, bringing back memories of the battle at the Ostwick Circle. Evelyn fought off retching when she saw the bodies, still kneeling, burnt black, mouths open in eternally silent screams. Anyone of these could be Lincoln. Or Killian. These people had come to discuss peace, hoping to end the terror running rampant across. Instead, they were all dead. Murdered. Tears burned Evelyn’s eyes.

    The drawf said something about the red stone. It was lryium, corrupted and evil; it had made Knight-Commander Meridith go insane. He seemed afraid. Evelyn recognized the red glow it gave off. It was the same light she’d seen coming from underneath that door in the temple. A voice echoed in the air, and a shiver ran down Evelyn’s spine. She recognized the woman’s voice that followed. It was the cry she’d heard in the hallway. The Right and Left Hand looked to her for answers, but Evelyn had none. She couldn’t remember anything after opening the door to the red light. She wasn’t sure she wanted to.

    The elf told her to open the rift, so she lifted her hand and let the magic pour from her. Pain burned down her arm, but she reveled in it, letting it be the mortar that rebuilt the wall around her heart, steeling herself for battle. She didn’t have time to mourn, time to cry. A demon fell from the hole she’d opened into the Fade she launched herself at it, letting training and instinct take over. When it was done, she raised her hand to the rift again, pain rolling through her body until her knees gave out and her vision darkened. With a sigh, Evelyn let the darkness take her. It could keep her for all she cared.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Herald wakes up and the War Council learns one of her many secrets.

Cullen straightened from the table, rubbing the knot at the back of his neck. This job had changed quickly and violently. They were still reeling from the explosion; the loss of the Divine. Cassandra and Liliana had taken the loss hard. Oddly enough, he wasn’t nearly as shaken as most. He was too used to the world going to shit around him. Perhaps he as just numb to it all now – the death and chaos. None of it shocked him anymore. 

Except for the woman. Despite being accused of the explosion and killing the Divine, she hadn’t hesitated to join their fight. He’d admired the determined set of her jaw, the focus in her movements, even though there had been an emptiness in her eyes. In the few moments he’d interacted with her, something had drawn him to her. It wasn’t just that she was attractive; it was her fight, her fierceness. She’d worn well-made black leather armor, her black hair braided on each side and tied back on the top of her head, and she carried her daggers like they were a part of her. It was clearly not the first time the woman had plunged into a battle. She was a fighter; a warrior. 

He hoped she woke up. It had been three days now. Adan and Solas looked after her, but there had been no word yet this morning. The people were calling her the Herald of Andraste. After accusing her of murder, they praised her though they knew almost next to nothing about her. The only name she’d given Cassandra was Evelyn, and Tethras had placed her accent from the Free Marches. Leliana’s people were there now; doing whatever it was they did, trying to dig up information on their new anointed one.

A gasp from the spymaster interrupted his thoughts. He looked at her, watching silently as she read the report in her hand, her face paling. Without a word, she handed the paper to Cassandra. The Lady Seeker took it slowly and read, the spymasters eyes on her. Cassandra’s lips pulled into a tight line. She looked up at Leliana. 

“Why would she not tell us?” The Seeker asked the Nightingale. Both women stared silently at one another for a few moments before Leliana shook her head. “She must be…devastated.”

“What’s happened?” Cullen finally asked. They looked at him sadly. It was Leliana who explained. 

“We’ve been working to set up this Conclave for nearly a year. I was communicating with the mages and Cassandra the Templars. Our contacts were brothers from the Free Marches – Lincoln and Killian Trevelyan. They are an old noble family with strong ties to the Chantry. Even before the rebellion broke out, they were in contact with us, concerned over the rising tensions. We knew they were using a courier to run messages between the parties, to recruit and gather people to our cause on both sides. It was someone they trusted, someone Killian once told me he’d give his life for without a thought. We just…”

“Didn’t know it was their sister,” Cassandra finished. Cullen looked between the two, his gut twisting as he realized what they were saying. Something about the name Trevelyan pulled at his memory, but he pushed it aside for the moment.

“The Herald is their sister,” he said. Leliana nodded. 

“Evelyn Trevelyan,” she said, not even glancing at the report like it was already seared into her mind. “Youngest of six and the only daughter of Bann William Trevelyan of Ostwick. Twenty-five years old. Unmarried. Her mother died when she was eleven; her father passed a year later and she was then raised by her grandfather. Her oldest brother Ruslan now runs the family. Killian was the second oldest. He was sent to the Circle at fourteen. Aslan is the middle brother and commands the Trevelyan soldiers. Lincoln and Rawlin, the two youngest boys, are both Templars.”

Leliana recited the report like the information would save her from the emotions. As though relying on habit, normalcy would dull the ache. Cullen knew the instinct well. Still, there were unshed tears glistening in the woman’s eyes. 

“Lincoln was my contact,” Cassandra told him. “Killian was hers. They were both at the temple.”

“So while we were accusing her of murder, pushing her into battle carrying a magical mark of unknown origin, she was mourning the loss of two brothers.” The words came out harsher than Cullen intended and each woman flinched. He hadn’t meant to accuse them, but the injustice of it burned in him. 

“She seemed distant,” Cassandra mused. “I just thought she was…confused. Or overwhelmed. There was no sign, no indication of grief.”

“If she is a noble, she is likely versed in The Game, even if she is from the Marches. Hiding her emotions is something she likely learned at a young age. She clearly didn't want us to know who she was. Though I do not know why.” The steel was back in Leliana’s voice. She had something to focus on; something to pull her away from the regret and the grief. Cullen had watched it happen several times in the last few days. He knew she was mourning the loss of the Divine but any time the emotion seemed near to overwhelming her, Liliana would find something else to focus it. Her ability to do so was remarkable, really, but Cullen worried that, at some point, it would come back up. He silently vowed to keep his eye on her, just in case. 

“Nobel or no, it was not the first time she was in battle,” Cullen said. Leliana nodded. 

“There is clearly more to her than a mere noblewoman. She has experience – enough that her brothers felt confident in her ability to operate alone. There are several years unaccounted for as of yet. She left home four years ago, at twenty-one, and she did not start working with us until after the Circle in Ostwick was attacked. Whatever happened in those three years should tell us what we need to know.”

They worked for a few more hours. Cullen and Cassandra set aside their reports to help Leliana go through hers. They needed to know who their Herald was before anything else. There were several reports of refused suitors. Ruslan Trevelyan had tried to marry his sister off as soon as his grandfather passed when Evelyn was seventeen but no marriage was ever arranged. There were no details, only rumors that the youngest Trevelyan was wild and unruly, unfit to wed one of noble birth. There were trysts and scandals and one accusation from the last suitor that Evelyn Trevelyan had pinned him to the wall with daggers through each arm and leg. Cassandra had actually laughed at that. 

A headache growing at the base of his skull, Cullen excused himself for the midday meal and then went to check in on the small group of recruits he had. He ran through drills with Rylen and then threatened to make the soldiers run around the lake if they didn’t start using their shields. Yelling at the recruits distracted him from thinking about the woman that lay sleeping in her cabin. How unfair they’d been to her. How unjustly she’d been treated. How her blue eyes had shone with determination on the mountain; the set of her jaw; the easy way she spun her dagger in her hand; the way she moved through the onslaught of demons with practiced ease. 

It was late in the afternoon when one of Leliana’s people came running towards him. 

“She’s awake, sir,” the man gasped. “In the Chantry.”

Cullen handed off the training to Rylen and headed for the Chantry. Leliana met him in the hallway and together they made their way back to the war room.

“Did you speak to her about her brothers?” Cullen asked Leliana the two of them took their place at the table. The Herald and Seeker trailed behind them, talking quietly in the hall. Cullen studied the woman again, something about her appearance tugging at his memory the way her family name had. She was beautiful, he realized, with a long face and sharp jaw. Her vibrant blue eyes shone in contrast to tan skin and raven hair. She once again wore the black armor he’d met her in and it again struck him how she carried herself like a fighter, yet moved with a sly gracefulness that intrigued him.

“There was no time,” Leliana said quietly as the two women entered the room. “Roderick was in here spewing his nonsense when she came in. After she agreed to help, she nearly ran from the room. We’ll have to speak of it when we’re done here.”

He didn’t like it, and there was something in the spymaster’s voice that set him on edge, but there was little he could do at this point. The door closed behind Cassandra and the Seeker launched into introductions as soon as the door was closed, starting with him. 

“It was only for a moment on the field. I’m pleased you survived,” he said. The Herald carefully looked him over, her eyes settling on his gauntlets. He glanced down when her face paled and realized he still wore the ones with the Templar insignia. When he looked back up at her, the color was back in her cheeks and she nodded politely at him as Cassandra continued introducing Josephine. 

Then it was straight to business. The squabbling started almost immediately and though he should know better, Cullen couldn’t help himself from arguing with Leliana. The Herald listened, face solemn but said nothing until the Ambassador mentioned the Chantry had denounced her. 

“Well, that was fast,” she said with a snort. “Though, not the first time.”

The three other women in the room shared a startled look but Evelyn Trevelyan either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Lady Nightengale was the first to recover, as usual, asking the Herald to travel to the Hinterlands. The Herald took a deep breath and nodded her consent. 

“I’ll see what she has to say,” she said. Her voice was alto and smooth with just the slightest hint of the Free Marches accent. Cullen was surprised Tethras had picked up on it. “Just to warn you, Chantry Sisters are not often fond of me, though, I should be able to garner some other support. I have some contacts in the area.

“May I ask how Lady Trevelyan from Ostwick has contacts in the Hinterlands?” Leliana her voice soft but her tone cutting. It was the same tone he’d caught in her voice earlier – as if she were angry with the Herald. Cullen’s gut twisted as he watched the color drain from Evelyn’s face once again. He glared at the spymaster. 

“There are better ways to do this, Sister Nightengale,” he growled, feeling suddenly and inappropriately protective of the woman across from him. Leliana, of course, ignored him, her eyes glued to the Herald. Cullen heard Evelyn take a shuddering breath and looked back at her. Instead of bending under the weight of Leliana’s glare, she’d pulled her shoulders back and stuck her chin out. 

“Killian said you’re good,” she said, her voice cracking just a bit at her brother’s name. She swallowed hard. “What do you know?”

Leliana quickly repeated what she’d told Cullen earlier. Evelyn showed nothing, nodding tersely at the end of the spymaster’s report. Then she took a deep breath. 

“I will tell you want you want to know on the condition that it does not leave this room. Ever. If it does, you will quickly learn what happens to those who cross me,” The Herald said with a coldness in her voice that rivaled Leliana’s. She looked at each of them pointedly, waiting for them to nod before continuing. “There are tales of knight, traveling across Thedas, helping those in need; giving food and money and shelter to those in need. A thief and villain to the wealthy, a savior to the destitute and desperate.”

“The Raven Knight,” Leliana confirmed, her eyes narrowing. “But the tales began long ago, well before you could have been old enough.”

“The Raven Knight is a symbol, meant to give hope to those in need and intimidate those who use their power and wealth to oppress others. My predecessor trained me and I bore the mantle after their death. That is how Lady Trevelyan of Ostwick has contacts in the Hinterlands, as well as many other parts of Thedas. And why I was able to be effective as a courier for my brothers.” 

Silence hung in the air for several long minutes as the advisors put the pieces together. Cullen couldn’t stop staring at the woman standing across from him. He couldn’t figure out how a young woman of noble birth had become one of the most whispered legends in Thedas. At only twenty-five years of age. 

“Did they know?” Cassandra asked, her voice softer than Cullen had ever heard. Evelyn’s hands shook before she clenched them. It was the first crack in her composure. She shook her head. 

“There are only two people, prior to now, in this world who ever knew. One of them is dead, and the other is my brother Rawlin,” her voice hitched and she pressed her lips together. “Who probably thinks I’m dead at this moment. So if you’ll please excuse me, I’d like to get a letter to him as soon as possible.”

She turned to leave but the Seeker asked another question.

“Why did you not tell us?”

Evelyn Trevelyan stopped and turned back around slowly, staring evenly at the Seeker. Cullen had met few people that could hold Cassandra Pentegast’s gaze. Or Leliana’s for that matter. Evelyn Trevelyan easily met both. His admiration for the young women grew the longer he knew her. 

“I was chained in a dungeon and accused of murdering thousands. While I don’t blame you for the conclusions you made – I likely would have made the same had I been in your position – I wasn’t going to give you anything until you believed me.”  
Cassandra nodded. 

“Your brothers were good men,” The Seeker said. Evelyn swallowed hard and reached up, pulling a chain from around her neck. She walked up to the table and slammed it down. Shoulders still back, she looked back at the Seeker, her brilliant blue eyes shining with tears.

“They were not good men. They were great men,” she said, her voice finally breaking. Cullen watched as she took another shuddering breath, his heart breaking for her. “They were the best of men.”

She turned and stalked out of the room, back straight, chin still high. Cullen looked down at the table and saw the chain she’d pulled from her neck. There were two rings on it, each of them bearing a crest of a golden-maned horse. The family crest of House Trevelyan. Cullen let out a curse, earning a surprised look from the three women. He remembered why he’d recognized the name earlier, why the Herald had looked familiar. 

Without a word, he followed the Herald out into the hallway, grabbing the necklace as he went. He caught sight of her as she ducked through the door to the cellar. Not wanting to cause a scene and draw more attention to the woman when she was grieving, Cullen kept his strides slow. She’d left the door open, so he pulled it closed behind him, shutting out the noise of the Chantry’s main hall. 

The sounds of sobs echoed off the stone walls, followed by the unmistakable noise of retching. Cullen paused for a moment, wondering if privacy wouldn’t be better for her. Then he remembered the tears in her eyes, the trembling words for her brothers and that odd sense of protectiveness took over again. He pulled his kerchief out of the pocket as he made the way down the stairs. 

Evelyn Trevelyan was at the bottom, leaning over an old urn, supporting herself with a hand on the wall. The other hand held her black tresses away from her face. Sympathy tugged at his heart, eliminating any remaining trepidation and he hurried to her side, gently taking the hair from her hand just as she was sick again. A few more sobs escaped her before she sucked in several deep breaths. 

Cullen let go of her hair and stepped back, holding out his kerchief, suddenly aware that he had likely overstepped his bounds. He felt a flush creeping up his neck. But the Herald said nothing, eyes flashing up to his briefly and offering a small, tight smile. 

“Thank you,” she said in a near whisper, nothing like the confident, sure woman upstairs. Cullen shifted his weight uncomfortably, grabbing the back of his neck. 

“It’s clean,” he offered. To his surprised, that elicited a quick laugh and the Herald gently wiped her mouth. Folding the kerchief, she looked back up at him. Tears stained her cheeks and she offered another tight smile. 

“I’ll get you a new one.” Her voice was more even now, her breathing growing more steady. “It’s Cullen, right? Or, sorry, Commander. I’m not great at official titles.”

“Cullen is fine,” he said. “I’m sorry if I…I didn’t mean to intrude. If I overstepped…”

He let his words fade when she began shaking her head, her smile growing now. 

“It was thoughtful of you to check on me. And it was thoughtful for you to say that to Sister Nightengale.”

“Though unnecessary, I think. You handled her quiet well.” He watched her smile again. It was a beautiful smile, making her eyes crinkle just a little bit. She only had one dimple, on the left side of her face and he found it endearing. Realizing where his thoughts were leading him, Cullen cleared his throat and held up her necklace. The smile disappeared then, grief in those cerulean eyes once again as she reached out to take it from him. “I recognized the name Trevelyan earlier but I didn’t realize it until I saw the ring. I knew Lincoln, for a time. In Kirkwall. He’d been caught with the ring and ordered to get rid of it. He was devastated. He said…”

“A Trevelyan man never parts with his ring,” she finished. Her face scrunched up and she sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. Cullen nodded. “You let him keep it. Wear it on this chain. He told me in a letter. It meant a lot to him.”

“I’m afraid your brother didn’t…know me at my best,” he said, quietly. “But he always was the best of men.”

A sob escaped Evelyn’s lips and she ducked her head, trying to hide her tears from him. After a moment, she looked back up at him, a fresh tear running down her face. 

“Thank you, Ser Cullen.” Her words were tight and it was clear she was fighting off another round of crying. “I appreciate your kindness more than you can know. But if you don’t mind, I really do need to write to Rawlin.”

“Of course,” he said, wishing he could do more. She nodded to him and then turned and hurried back up the stairs, the chain clutched tightly in her hands. He watched as she paused at the top of the stairs, take several deep breaths and then, once again, pull back her shoulders and lift her chin before stepping through the door. 

Cullen let out a long breath and ran his hands through his hair. He was emotionally spent and for the first time in what seemed like ages, it wasn’t due to his lyrium withdrawals. Evelyn Trevelyan had taken him by surprise, first on the battlefield, then in the council meeting and then once again down here. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d admired someone so much after so little time. Even Cassandra had taken some warming up to. Her abrasiveness was often too much like Meredith’s. 

With a sigh, he started back up the stairs to return to the war room. He’d spend a few more hours going over his reports before turning in for the night and at least trying to get some sleep. In the morning he’d have to help prepare what little people they had to travel to the Hinterlands. The Herald wasn’t even getting any time to mourn her brothers before they threw her into the fray. 

He wondered how much longer she’d be willing to help them. They were treating her like shit.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen gets to know Evelyn better and begins to realize he may be in over his head.

    “You can’t avoid Val Rouyex forever, Herald,” Josephine said. Cullen bit back a laugh when the Herald screwed up her face.

    “Are you sure?” Evelyn asked. “Because I’ve been doing it since I was nine.”

    Cassandra snorted a laugh, but their Ambassador looked displeased. Evelyn sighed. She seemed tired after returning from the Hinterlands to find Mother Giselle. Cassandra had told him the fighting between the mages and Templars had been bad and Evelyn seemed to take it personally after working so long to help set up the Conclave. They had returned yesterday, the Mother in tow, and were already planning to ship the Herald out on another set of missions. At this rate, they'd run her into the ground before they were able to close the Breach.

    “Very well,” the Herald said. “Give me a few days of rest and we’ll make the trip. But, I’m going in my armor, not some ridiculous dress that cost enough to feed an entire alienage. And I’m not wearing a fucking mask.”

    Cullen was always surprised to see the amusement on Leliana’s face when the Herald cussed. He knew they’d grown close after the spymaster had apologized for how she’d broached the subject of the Trevelyan brothers. Still, Leliana was usually much more guarded with her reactions. Cullen supposed it was a good thing. Maker knew both women deserved a friend. Though, the thought of the trouble Leliana and Evelyn could cause did give him a bit of a pause.

    The Herald’s voice pulled his attention back to the meeting.

    “I’m sorry, Josie. I don’t mean to upset you.” Evelyn’s face was suddenly void of any teasing, her voice solemn, her words earnest. “You have my word that I will behave respectfully, for your sake and that of the Inquisition. I would never insult the work you do by making a public mockery of it.”

    It wasn’t the first time Cullen had witnessed Evelyn seamlessly switch personas. One minute she could be a crass fighter, drinking whiskey and cursing with Varric. The next she would be a calm, well-spoken noble woman. He watched her build open and loving relationships with her companions - a Seeker, a drawf and an elven apostate. She was open with her affection and welcoming to all. Then she was cool and calculating when planning missions. She could switch from discussing politics with Josephine to planning missions with Leliana with ease. No matter how many times he watched, it never ceased to amaze him.

    “Thank you, Herald.” Josephine sighed visibly even as Evelyn flinched at her title. “I will try not to forget that you well know who to behave in Orlais.”

    “Yes, well, let’s not pretend that I don't need reminders from time to time,” Evelyn admitted with a wink. All four advisors began laughing and Evelyn Trevelyan just turned, sauntering out of the room like she’d done exactly what she’d intended, easing the tension with humor and a smile. He noticed her doing that more frequently, when the debates in the war room got heated.

    He didn’t see her for the rest of the day and to his surprise, he found that disappointing. There were several messages from her throughout the day, each one making plans that would prolong her trip to Val Royeux. A mercenary group had made contact from the Storm Coast; soldiers were missing in the Fallow Mire and there was still unfinished business in the Hinterlands. Cullen laughed out loud at Evelyn’s last note.

   

_We’ll finish up the trip by dropping down to the Hinterlands. The refugees are still struggling to find food and blankets. I know they need help but I swear if I have to kill another fucking bear in that Maker-forsaken place, I’m claiming the fur for a mantle as amazing as yours. I’m serious. That thing is amazing on you…and I’m sure it’s warm too._

_-Evelyn_

 

    Cullen did his best not to let the last line affect him. He was sure he was reading too much into it. Still, it stuck in his mind all afternoon, even as his headache worsened. He was lucky so far that the headaches were all he suffered from, but they were getting worse. Today’s was bad enough that he skipped dinner and retired to his small cabin. In bed, candles out, curtains pulled across the windows to shut out any light, Cullen tried his best to sleep, but the Herald kept creeping into his thoughts. He dissected her words, trying to discern what Evelyn had meant in her message. Not that it mattered. She was a noble woman, the Herald of Andraste and was her Commanders. It would never happen. Couldn’t happen. But they could be friends. That would have to be enough for now.

    He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, but nightmares work him in the earliest hours of the morning. Knowing he wouldn’t sleep again, he pulled on his smalls and a pair or wool pants along with a linen shirt. Finally, he yanked a heavier wool shirt over the linen and pulled on a pair of soft-soled shoes. Maybe if he ran himself to exhaustion, he’d sneak in a few more hours of sleep.

    Outside, the air was crisp and still. Cullen nodded to the few guards he passed. No one ever questioned why their Commander ran at the darkest hours of the night. He supposed it seemed like discipline and dedication. He ran the small loop first – out to the battle scared bridge and back to the gates of Haven – and then started on the long loop that would take him all the way around the frozen lake and back. Sometimes it took him three or four times through before he was tired enough to attempt sleep. At some point, he knew his endurance would grow to the point where the exercise was useless. He’d have to run so long to grow tired, there wouldn’t be any extra time to sleep.    

    He made his way down the snow-covered path, towards the abandoned cabin that stood in the woods, hearing a gentle “thwak” every few seconds before he saw her. Surprised, Cullen pulled to a stop and watched. Evelyn was dressed in all black, pants and boots covering her legs. The top she wore was tight with only thin straps looping over her shoulders to hold it in place. In the moonlight, he could see scars along her back and shoulders, some new and some old. They flickered silver in the light as the muscles underneath shifted in quick, measured movements.

    She had daggers and knives strapped all over her body – on her back, around her waist, at her wrists, along her thighs, in her boots. Cullen watched her plant her feet in the snow, stare down the side of the cabin and then in smooth, easy movements she started to throw her daggers. Evelyn moved so fast, he barely had time to register what she was doing before she was done. She’d gone through a dozen knives in just a few seconds.

    With a sigh, Evelyn started toward the cabin where her knives stuck in the wood in the shape of a perfect circle. Cullen had never seen anything like it. Evelyn carefully removed each one, replacing them on her body. Then she turned around to head back to her spot when she froze in her tracks, eyes on Cullen. He watched her ready one of her daggers, so he held his hands up and started toward her.

    “Cullen?” She relaxed when she recognized him, sheathing her dagger. “Maker, I didn’t wake you did I? I thought no one in town would hear if I came out here.”

    “No, no,” Cullen assured her, dropping his arms and leaning against a tree. “I couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d get in a run. What are you doing out here?”

    Evelyn stopped a few paces from him, her cheeks red from exertion. She was drenched with sweat, pieces of stray hair stuck to her face and neck, the thin shirt soaked through and clinging to her body. Cullen watched a trickle of sweat run down her neck and suddenly, Cullen desperately wanted to reach out and brush it away. To trace it’s path down her neck across her chest and…

    “Oh, you know, trying to work out my frustrations before I have to deal with Chantry Sisters and noble prigs in Orlais,” Evelyn joked. Cullen forced his eyes away from her neck and met her gaze. There was a glint in her eyes that told him she’d noticed his looking. There was no way she hadn’t. He cleared his throat and looked away.

    “For a noble from a house with strong Chantry ties, I’m surprised by your feelings on the matter,” he said, hoping to distract her, forcing himself to look back at her. He regretted it immediately. A dark look passed through Evelyn’s eyes. Then he watched it disappear as if she swept into a secret box and locked it. He’d seen her do it so many times - subdue any real emotion under a veneer of indifference and humor.

    “There is a reason I left,” she said, rolling her eyes. “The last time I went to a service I was twelve. I feel asleep and fell out of the pew, knocked over a candelabra and started the banners on fire.”

    “No,” Cullen gasped, caught between horror and hysterical laughing. Evelyn nodded, eyes twinkling.

    “My grandfather was furious. Said I couldn’t go back until I learned how to be a _proper lady_.” Evelyn emphasized “proper lady” in a heavy Free Marcher accent and Cullen couldn’t help himself, he dropped his head back and laughed.

    "I take it he never decided you were lady enough to return if that was the last time you went,” Cullen said when he was finally done laughing. Evelyn smiled up at him, and he again marvelled at her single dimple. It was oddly endearing, so in contrast with the rest of her - sweet and adorable while she was all sleek and strong. He loved the contrast and he had the sudden urge to bend down and kiss her. So much for being okay with being just friends.

    “Whenever it was time to go, I’d come downstairs in my trousers and tunic,” she chuckled. “At first, he’d just glare at me and point back upstairs, banishing to my room for the rest of the day. Eventually, though, he just acted like I wasn’t there.”

    “That seems rather cruel.” Cullen followed her as she started back to Haven. She shrugged.

    “He was a cruel man,” she said. “I preferred when he paid me no attention. It was better that way.”

    They walked through the snow, shoulder to shoulder. Cullen felt her shudder with cold. Without a word, he slipped off his wool shirt and handed it to her.

    “That’s the second time now you’ve had to take care of me.” Evelyn slipped the shirt on. Cullen watched her toned muscles move in the moonlight.

    “I don’t mind taking care of you.” The words were out of his mouth before he realized what he was saying. He felt himself blushing when the Herald looked up at him, eyes wide with surprise. Then her look softened into a soft smile.

    “Well Commander, aren’t you a sweet talker,” she cooed, her eyes alight with mischief again. Maker this woman was too quick for him. “How are you not married?”

    Cullen coughed.

    “I, uh…well, it’s not…there’s not much time for romance in a Circle,” he stumbled, unable to take his eyes off Evelyn. She was not a small woman. She stood to his shoulders, and her frame was fit and athletic. Still, his shirt was huge on her. It hung past her hips to her mid-thigh and off one shoulder, exposing the sheen on her skin. Again, Cullen found himself wanting to reach out and touch her. He needed to distract himself. “What about you? I don’t know many ladies unmarried at twenty-five years.”

    “Oh yes, it’s positively scandalous. It was my grandfather’s greatest embarrassment that he couldn’t get me married off before he died when I was seventeen and it was Ruslan’s first order of business when he took over the family.” Evelyn rolled her eyes. “Once, he tried to lock me in my room until I agreed to a marriage. Of course, he didn’t realize that I had about four ways to sneak out of my rooms. It took him six months to realize it wouldn’t work.”

    “Six months? Maker’s Breath, why would he do that?” Cullen gasped, watching a look pass over Evelyn’s face he’d never seen before – sheer disgust and hatred.

    “He’s an ass,” Evelyn spat. “That’s how. The most complete and total ass I’ve ever known.”

    Cullen regretted saying anything. He grabbed at the back of his neck and searched for something, anything, bring back her smile.

    “Did you really pin one of your suitors to the wall?” He asked. Immediately, the dark look on Evelyn’s face disappeared, replaced by mirth. She dropped her head back and laughed. It was loud and full and Cullen loved it. She grabbed onto his arm and leaned into him.

    “Oh shit, Cullen! That’s one of my favorite memories!” She was laughing so hard, tears were forming in her eyes. Cullen smiled down at her. At least he’d done this part right.

    “So it’s true, then?” He asked. Evelyn nodded.

    “Oh yes! Only, I didn’t stab his limbs, just the fabric of his shirt and pants. It was when those big, billowy silks were fashion. Honestly, those atrocious things got what they deserved.” She took a few deep breaths and wiped the tears from her eyes. “I told him to stand against the wall and pose for me so I could picture him while he was gone. Idiot arrogant Orlesians always fall for that kind of shit.”

    She lost herself in another round of laughter and Cullen couldn’t help but join her as they walked back into Haven. Until an old woman slammed open her window and yelled at them for making so much noise. The two of them stifled their laughs behind hands until they got to Cullen’s cabin. Evelyn paused at the door and moved to take off Cullen’s wool shirt.

    “Keep it,” he said. His heart nearly stopped at the smile she gave him.

    “Thank you,” she said quietly. “For taking care of me again.”

    “Anytime, Evelyn.” His voice came out low and gravely. An expression of what looked incredibly like desire passed through Evelyn’s eyes. Then it was gone, swept under that mask she wore, disappearing so quickly Cullen wondered if he’d imagined it. Before he realized what was happening, Evelyn was on her toes and kissing his cheek. Cullen caught a whiff of lilac before she stepped away.

    “Good night, Cullen,” she whispered. And then she was gone, slipping into the night before he could respond.

    Several minutes later, undressed and back in bed, Cullen stared up at the ceiling, his breathing finally back to normal. After his decision this afternoon to remain friends with the Herald and nothing more, tonight had taken a dangerous turn. With a sigh, Cullen closed his eyes and whispered into the dark.

    “Shit.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Letters from Evelyn as she travels and begins to the pull the Inquisition together.

              The Herald’s first letter arrived four days after she and her party departed for Val Royeux and it had all three advisors on edge. Despite her usual lack of formality, Evelyn typically at least professional in her reports. This was anything but, scratched in a tight, hurried hand, unlike her usually elegant scrawl.

 

              _I don’t know what the FUCK is going on, but this whole trip has been a shit show. I swear to the Maker, Josie, this was not my doing. The Chantry has gone tits up and I don’t know what the Void is going on with the Templars (I’m sorry, Cullen). The Lord Seeker has lost his mind._

_We’re stopping in Haven on our way to the Storm Coast to start cleaning this shit up. Lady Vivenne will arrive with us. If I don’t kill her first. And an elf named Sera, has connections to the Red Jennies. I’ve had a few dealings with them in the past. Unorthodox but hilarious. And effective. Brace yourselves for this one._

_E.A. Trevelyan_

 

           Josie was a frantic mess as Cullen read the letter. Cassandra’s report, at least, gave more clarification as to what happened with the Templars and the Lord Seeker, but it didn’t prepare them for the storm of a Herald that rode into town two days later. Cullen had yet to see Evelyn’s temper, though both Varric and Cassandra had told him about it, and it was quite terrifying. She paced back and forth in the war room, growling with anger. For someone who had such strong feelings against the Chantry, it surprised Cullen a bit to see her react to vehemently. She shook so badly when she told them how the Lord Seeker had hit the Sister, Cullen instinctively reached out for her arm, trying to calm her. In her state, Cullen could only imagine her reaction in Val Royeux. He suspected they were lucky she hadn't caused an incident.

          “If I ever get my hands on him, I swear I’ll cut that coward’s little dick off,” she snarled. Poor Josephine jumped at her words. Even Cullen flinched. Leliana, though, grinned.

          “I’ll hold him down,” the spymaster offered. Cullen nearly choked, but it seemed to calm Evelyn down. She nodded at her friend.

           “Thank you, Leli,” Evelyn said, and Leliana just nodded. Cullen couldn’t tell if they were serious. He had the feeling they were.

          They made a few quick plans and replenished their supplies. Leliana pulled Evelyn aside for a few minutes to discuss some business in the Hinterlands and then the Herald and her party prepared to take off again. Madam de Fer and the elf, Sera, stayed behind to settle in. Cullen hated that he had barely any time to speak with Evelyn before she left.

     “Are you alright?” He asked quietly, stealing a few minutes with her under the guise of helping her prepare her horse. Evelyn nodded sharply. Taking the chance of once again crossing a line, Cullen reached out for her hand as it tied on her pack in short, jerky movements. It stilled underneath his touch and she took in a shuddering breath.

     “I hate men like that,” she whispered in a rare moment of open, raw emotion. The same look of disgust and hatred that had been on her face when discussing her brother, darkened her eyes now. “Men who use their power over those unable to fight back. It’s revolting.”

     Another shuddering breath.

     “I’m sorry,” Cullen said, keeping his voice low so the others couldn’t hear. “I wish I’d been there. To help. To do…something.”

     Evelyn turned her hand over underneath his and gripped it tightly. Warmth surged through Cullen’s body and he wished neither of them had gloves on. He wanted to feel her skin on his. Then she looked up at him with that same soft, vulnerable expression she’d given him the night she’d kissed his cheek and all the air left his lungs. His chest grew so tight he wasn’t sure how he kept breathing.

     “This is enough,” she said, squeezing his hand and then letting go. “I’ll be okay.

     She swung herself up into the saddle and with one last, tight smile, she was off.

 

 

 

      The trip to the Storm Coast was the longest one yet, and Evelyn’s raven didn’t arrive until nearly a week later.

_We’ve located our scouts. The bandits did not leave them alive. We’ver repaid the favor. They will no long pose any problems here. We’ve set up a few camps. Should help the scouts a bit._

_Josie – The Iron Bull (yes, “The” is part of his full name. He’s very sensitive about the article) and the Chargers have accepted our offer. Expect them within the week._

_Nightingale – The Iron Bull tells me he is Ben Hassrath and has offered to share information with us. It appears the Qunari wish to have a line of communication with the Inquisition. I took him up on his offer but let’s be careful and do a full vetting._

_Cullen – Can we use the Chargers to help with the recruits? They have some fascinating techniques. Also, I had to kill another bear but since this one wasn’t in the Hinterlands, we can use the hides for something more useful than my own mantle._

_We watched a dragon fight a giant. Fucking amazing. When we get a big enough team, we’re going after it. I want a chair made out of its head. Wouldn’t that be fantastic?! We'll have to find somewhere to put it..._

_E.A. Trevelyan_

 

 

              Cullen groaned when he read the last line out loud at the council table. Leliana smiled.

              “She’s not serious, is she?” Josephine fretted.

              “Most likely,” Leliana chuckled.  “Just spin it to our advantage, Josie. Herald of Andraste, Protector of the People, Dragonslayer. The Orleasians will eat it up.”

              “Oh, well if the Orleasians will love it, by all means,” Cullen grumbled.

 

***

 

              “If I see another fucking bear, we’re leaving,” Evelyn huffed, throwing her dagger into the ground and collapsing onto a crate. Cassandra snorted what Evelyn could only guess was consent. They’d dropped south from the Storm Coast to follow a lead on a Grey Warden from Leliana and clear some roads for supplies to the refugees. They still had the matter of the missing soldiers in the Fallow Mire but Evelyn was beginning to think a trip back to Haven before heading that way was a good idea. They were getting low on supplies.

              “I second that, Raven,” Varric said, claiming the crate next to her. Evelyn did her best not to flinch at the nickname. There was no way the drawf knew about her other past time but Leliana had given her the code name and Varric latched onto it. He told her it was fitting for her black hair and growing friendship with Sister Nightingale - The Raven and The Nightengale, the author gushed. Evelyn had never had a friend to give her a nickname, and though she quite liked it, she’d spent so much time working to keep the identity of the Raven Knight secret, the moniker always made her heart skip a beat.

              “I have had my full of bears and rams and Templars and mages for the time being,” Solas chimed in. For a while, Evelyn had been convinced the only reason the elf tolerated her was because she’d shown an interest in the Fade and eleven culture, but he seemed to be growing more comfortable with the group. Evelyn finished cleaning her blades and was just about to start removing her armor when the scout on the edge of camp raised the alarm.

              “Bear!”

              “Fuck!” Evelyn shouted. Cassandra glared at her, disapproving, and grabbed her shield. Solas sighed as he got to his feet.

              “Wonderful,” he said under his breath.

              Nearly an hour later, Evelyn cleaned her blades and Harding tied up the bear hide to send back to Haven.

              “That’s it,” Evelyn said. “We’re headed out in the morning.”

              “I didn’t actually think you were serious,” Cassandra said, unclasping the buckles holding on her plate armor.

              “You want to stay, Seeker?” Evelyn pulled off her boots, moaning with relief.

              “Maker, no.” Cassandra snorted, digging in her pack and pulling out a dog-eared book. Evelyn watched as the Seeker did her best to nonchalantly hide the title from everyone’s view. “I’d give anything for a hot bath and a real meal at this point.”

              “Whatcha readin’ there, Seeker?” Varric asked, pulling out a flask. He took a swig and handed it to Evelyn who watched Cassandra’s cheeks redden.

              “Nothing that concerns you, Master Tethras.” With that, Cassandra ducked into the tent she and Evelyn shared. Evelyn looked at Varric and mouthed “Master?” With a grin, she took a drink from the flask, letting the whiskey burn down her throat. She offered it up to Solas who declined with a shake of his head and he too retreated to his tent.

              “How you holding up, Raven?” Varric asked, accepting the flask back and taking another drink.

              “Oh, wonderful,” Evelyn said, sarcasm dripping from every word. “The sky is torn open. I have a mysterious magical mark cut into my hand. I spent a year helping arrange peace talks to end a war that ended in a cataclysmic explosion, killing two of my brothers and hundreds of others. People are calling me the chosen of Andraste – biggest fucking joke of my life – and, after four years of outwitting my brother, staying hidden and out his grasp, he now knows exactly where to find me.”

              Varric was silent for a few moments, then slowly handed the flask back to her.

              “Could be worse,” he said dryly. Evelyn couldn’t stop the laugh that exploded from her. Several of the scouts looked her way. Her laugh was loud, often abrasive. There was a time she’d been embarrassed by her it, when Ruslan scolded her for sounding like a drunk bar wench. She didn’t care anymore, though, especially tonight. The last time she’d laughed so hard was before the Conclave – long before the Conclave. Beside her, Varric grinned, clearly pleased with himself for eliciting such a reaction.

              “Sure,” Evelyn said, taking another swig of whiskey. “The Mark could have ended up on my foot. That would be awkward.”

              Varric chuckled.

              “Yeah, you’d look so graceful lifting your foot in the air every time you had to close a rift.” He handed the flask back to her. Evelyn had to stop laughing at the mental image before she could take another drink. Varric continued to the list. “You could be one of those people that don’t drink. Then how would you deal with all this madness?”

              “Do those people exist?" Evelyn asked. Varric leaned closer to her.

              “I think its name is Solas,” he whispered. Evelyn nearly spit out her whiskey. Instead, it went down her throat wrong, triggering a round of spastic coughing.

              “I heard that, dwarf.” Solas’s voice floated out of the tent and Evelyn only laughed harder.

              “Sorry, Chuckles!” Varric called out, eyes twinkling. He and Evelyn both took another drink of whiskey; then Varric pointed at her. “You could be a virgin.”

              “Oh Maker, take me now!” Evelyn cried out, dramatically clutching her chest. Cassandra harrumphed from the tent, setting Evelyn and Varric on another bought of laughter. “Seriously, Varric, between helping set up the Conclave, falling from the sky with a magical mark, being accused of murder and then holiness, I may as well be. Shit, at this point all of the men I meet work for me, hate me or grovel at my feet. Who’s gonna lay me?”

              “What about Curly?” Varric kept his eyes on her and Evelyn felt her cheeks turn red. As much as she hated to admit it, she was drawn to the Commander. Very drawn. He was kind and passionate and even after finding her crying and puking in the cellar, he never treated her like she was fragile. And he was gorgeous; made her stomach turn in knots, light-headed, weak-kneed gorgeous. Evelyn couldn’t think of the last time a man had given her that feeling.

              “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Evelyn said, turning away from Varric, trying to hide her blush. Varric just laughed at her.

              “You know you get all noble-y when you’re uncomfortable?”

              “I do not!” Evelyn snapped her attention back to the drawf, who now held his flask with his stubby pinky finger sticking out.

              “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” he mimicked her in a truly awful voice. A part of Evelyn knew he was right and hated it. But the other part of her found Varric’e imitation to be too horrible to let pass. She let out another hard laugh and then steered the conversation away from her very handsome commander.

              “You spend your life being the only daughter of a noble house headed by a horrible prig, good for only marrying off to another stuffy noble prig, throw in The Game and then tell me you don’t default to years to propriety training when uncomfortable,” she retorted. Varric’s grin got bigger before she realized her mistake.

              “So, the thought of doin’ the dirty with Curly makes you uncomfortable?”

              Shit.

              “Your whiskey is poison, sir!” Evelyn said in mock disdain, desperately hoping Varric wouldn’t notice her every deepening blush. She had to look like a tomato at this point. With a snort, she stood up and headed for her tent.

              “Good night, Lady Trevelyan!” Varric called, knowing she hated that title almost as much as The Herald. Instead of responding, Evelyn flipped him off and ducked inside the tent to the sound of Varric’s laughter. Cassandra didn’t look up from her book as Evelyn undressed to her smalls and slid into her blanket. The whiskey warming her bones and relaxing her muscles, Evelyn closed her eyes with a long sigh.

              “Do you have feelings for the Commander?”

              Cassandra’s question snapped Evelyn’s eyes open.

              “What?” She managed to squeak out as the Seeker studied her face. Cassandra’s eyebrow shot up.

              “I heard you and Varric discussing such things. The Commander is a friend.”

              “Shit, Cassandra.” Evelyn rubbed her hands over her face, missing Cassandra’s scowl at her foul language. Varric’s whiskey was making her thoughts foggy. Normally, she’d just make a joke and blow it off, but over the last month, much to Evelyn’s surprise, the Seeker had become a good friend. “I barely know him. He’s kind and passionate and I like that. He’s good what he does. I respect him and, Maker, is that man attractive but I don’t know him well enough to know if I have feelings for him.”

              It was such a good lie, Evelyn almost had herself convinced. Cassandra’s eyebrow lowered a bit.

              “And are you planning to…dally with him?”

              Evelyn almost choked.

              “Maker, no,” she squeaked out. “I’m not…I’m not planning anything.”

              “Well, if you are, I can’t say I blame you. Certain…releases are important.” Cassandra looked back at her book, cheeks turning just a little pink. Evelyn couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Just keep in mind, some people are not used to such things and may become…attached.”

              “Feeling a bit protective are we?” Evelyn said, uncomfortable with where this was going or what Cassandra seemed to be implying.

              “I am always protective of my friends when they need it,” the Seeker said. Evelyn didn’t respond right away. When she finally did, Cassandra was closing her book and preparing to snuff out the small candle that lit their tent.

              “Does the Commander need protecting?” She asked quietly. A sadness passed through the Seekers eyes but it was gone quickly and Evelyn thought she may have imagined it.

              “Everyone needs protecting, even if they don’t know,” Cassandra said. The corner of her mouth twitched. “Except for me.”

              “Of course,” Evelyn snorted with a smile, letting the conversation go for the time being. Cassandra blew out the candle and it wasn’t long before her breathing was deep and even. But Evelyn’s mind would not quiet. Cassandra may have tried to mask her protectiveness of Cullen but Evelyn had five older brothers – she knew protectiveness when she saw it. She couldn’t figure out why the Seeker would need to protect Cullen though, especially from her.

              It was clear in Evelyn’s interaction with the Commander that the man had ghosts from his past. More than most, she would guess. And it would make sense if Cassandra knew. After all, she had recruited him out of Kirkwall and Evelyn knew the woman well enough to know she wouldn’t have done so without knowing everything about it.

              With a sigh, Evelyn resolved to ask Leliana about it when they returned to Haven. Even if the spymaster wouldn’t reveal the Commander’s secrets, she could at least help Evelyn understand if she’d done something wrong; something to earn the Seekers mistrust.

              The next morning, they rose with the sun and packed their things. Cassandra wrote a quick note to Cullen asking him to gather materials for watchtowers that needed building so the Inquisition could secure more horses. Evelyn used the time to pen a note to her spymaster.

              _Nightengale –_

_I haven’t been able to track down the Warden but we are in need of supplies and a bit of rest. We’re returning to Haven for a few days, then we’ll head for the Fallow Mire and then back to the Hinterlands to track this Blackwall a bit better. I’ve informed Harding of our intentions._

_I need to talk to you on a personal matter as well. I am in need of your honesty._

_Raven_


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More fluff; laying foundations for things to come!

              “So you haven’t taken any such vows?” Evelyn barely contained her laugh when Cullen turned a deeper shade of red than she’d ever seen. She knew, of course, that very few Templars took vows of chastity, and it was unlikely Cullen had. Evelyn wasn’t even sure how they’d gotten to this line of questioning. But she wasn’t disappointed.

              “What? No!” Cullen grabbed the back of his neck, eyes flashing around to see if anyone could hear them. “Maker’s Breath! Can we talk about something else?”

              “That’s all I needed to know,” Evelyn grinned. “See you at the war council, Commander.”

              She turned and walked back toward the gates, making sure to swing her hips just a little. Despite what she’d told Cassandra in the Hinterlands, she hadn’t been able to stop herself from seeking Cullen out. Or from shamelessly flirting with him.

              “Oi, Holy-Britches! You puttin’ the moves on Commander Growly?” Sera perched on the stone ledge along the stairs, eating a peach. The juices dripped down her chin onto her patched shirt. Evelyn grinned at her.

              “I’m not sure he’d know what to with my moves,” she said.

              “That’s cos you’re too crafty-like. Gotta be less gamey, more doing!” With that, Sera made a gesture with her fist moving away and toward her mouth, tongue pressing against her cheek in tandem. Evelyn nearly choked.

              “Oh yeah, I’m sure that would do it.” She shook her head. “He’d probably pass out if I went right for that.”

              Sera’s eyes widened for a moment like she was surprised Evelyn even knew what the gesture meant. Then she grinned evilly.

              “Easier to have your way with him, yeah?” Sera chortled. Evelyn just shook her head and walked away before she could get caught in any more sordid conversations about having her way with Cullen. As it was, she was pretty sure at least one of Leliana’s people had heard. Probably Varric too. She waved at the drawf as she passed, heading back to her cabin to finish packing for her trip tomorrow. Then she checked in with Solas, who was staying behind this time to continue his studies into the Breach. Then she headed for the war room.

              She was careful to avoid Vivienne, not wanting to get wrapped into another debate regarding the fate of the mages. There was sure to plenty of time for that while they traveled.

              “Ah good, you’re early.” Leliana looked up from where she and Josephine bent over the table. “I’m afraid we need to adjust your travel plans.:

              “We desperately need those horses, Herald,” Josephine explained. “I was able to make use of some of your contacts in the area and gather the materials. The Commander believes the towers will be done shortly.”

              “That quickly?” Evelyn asked.

              “We’ve made it a priority.” Cullen’s voice floated into the room behind her. Evelyn glanced over her shoulder as he walked into the room, brow pulled tight. He didn’t so much as look at her. Evelyn’s heart dropped. Maybe she had crossed a line with her teasing earlier. Cullen continued his report. “By the time you arrive, they will be complete. Master Dennet should be willing to talk then.”

              The meeting didn’t last long as most of the arrangements had already been made. Cullen ducked out quickly, without another word. Evelyn quickly said goodbye to Leliana and Josephine and hurried after him.

              “Cullen!” She called out, jogging down the hall, ignoring the dirty looks she received from several sisters and Vivienne. Cullen paused without looking at her, then started forward again when she caught up.

              “What can I do from you, Herald?” His voice was cold and tight. Evelyn flinched at the title as Cullen pushed open the door. She followed him outside.

              “Cullen, did I do something wrong? I only meant to tease earlier. If I offended…”

              Cullen stopped and looked at her, confused.

              “What?”

              “You seem upset,” Evelyn said, studying his face. “Did I go too far with the teasing?”

              “No!” Realization seemed to dawn on him. “No, no. I’m quite used to being teased. I suppose it has to do with the blushing.”

              She felt her concern drop away when his eyes twinkled at her. His lips twitched into a smirk and Evelyn’s eyes fell to his scar. She loved how it pulled when he smiled.

              “Is everything alright then?” She asked, forcing herself to look away from his lips. “You seemed…cross at the meeting.”

              “Oh, that.” Cullen shook his head, the smirk fading. “It’s simply a headache. Nothing to worry about.”

              “Alright then. Try to get some rest, Cullen.” She smiled at him and her heart jumped a little when he smiled back.

              “Yes, ma’am,” he said, making Evelyn snort. “Be careful. The Fallow Mire can be a dangerous place.”

              “Yes, sir!” Evelyn saluted with a wink and then headed for the tavern to have a drink with The Iron Bull and his Chargers. She was sure she heard Cullen laughing behind her.

 

                                                                                                                 ***

              Two weeks passed. Cullen did his best to get rest but sleep frequently evaded him. He’d taken up stopping by the tavern to share a drink with Varric and The Iron Bull, who he found to be immensely entertaining. They shared war stories and fighting tactics. Leliana even joined them on occasion, she and the Ben Hassrath agent trying to read one another, neither one seeming to get the upper hand. Evelyn’s first letter arrived fifteen days after she left, attached to a bear pelt. Cullen hadn’t realized he’d been counting the days until then.

              _Forget a fucking mantle. I want this made into a rug so I can stomp on it every time I get back._

_The Warden will be arriving shortly. He’s a bit odd. Never heard of a Grey Warden traveling on their own, but he’s good in a fight. Totally saved my ass._

_We also managed to find the last camps of both the rogue Templars and the rebel Mages in the area and cleaned them out. The fighting has dissipated for the most part. With the roads safer, I expect there will be a large number of refugees making for Haven. We’ll need to work quickly to gather enough supplies._

_We’re headed for the Fallow Mire. I’ll send word when we arrive._

_-E.A. Trevelyan_

 

              Over the next several weeks, Evelyn’s reports came less frequently and had much less life to them. The Fallow Mire was a dreary place, crawling with undead. The advisors grew more and more concerned about the state of their Herald. When the latest letter arrived, they considered pulling her back to Haven.

_I have never been in a more awful place. The undead are overrunning this miserable piece of land. There is a mage hiding somewhere – we’ve tried tracking him but to make our way through the masses of undead right now is impossible. We’ve nearly burnt through our supply of healing potion. Please have Adan send some post haste. Sera was injured badly and we barely had enough to save her._

_There is a plague ravaging the locals. I’ve sent pack sample and some notes we found. I’m sure Adan will fuss but please ask him to look at it and see what he do. These people need our help._

_We’ve narrowed down where the soldiers are. As soon as Sera is well, we’re headed out. Then we’ll be home._

_-E.A. Trevelyan_

 

              The formality and lack of cursing gave an indication of how Evelyn was faring. Even Scout Harding sent word to Leliana that she was concerned about the Herald. But by the time the advisor’s requested to have Evelyn and her team return to Haven before mounting a rescue arrived in the Fallow Mire, she and her team had already set out. Cullen wished they had sent word earlier when Evelyn returned a week later with a long gash along her stomach and broken ribs, courtesy of the local Avaar chief. 

              “I’m fine,” she assured him when he expressed his worry. “I’m just glad to be out of that place.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Girls night in Haven

              “I’m sorry we did not have time to talk when you were here last.” Leliana leaned back into her chair and took a sip of her wine. Evelyn waved her off. “What did you want to discuss?”

              Evelyn took a long drink of her own wine. She’d lost most of her nerve to ask Leliana about what Cassandra had said at camp and nearly told her to forget it. But it’d been years since she’d had a close female friend and damn it all if she wasn’t tired of keeping everything bottled up. So she took another drink of wine and told the spymaster about the Seeker's comments in the Hinterlands.

              “She was just so…protective of him,” Evelyn finally said lamely. “It just seemed odd. Why would she feel the need to protect him? From me?”

              Leliana remained silent for what seemed like hours and Evelyn felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. Or wine. The two of them had already downed an entire bottle.

              “I can’t say for sure,” the spymaster finally said, her eyes on Evelyn. “I’ve known Cullen, distantly, since the Blight. He’s been through a lot, we all have, but that is his story to tell when he sees fit. As for Cassandra, I think that has more to do with her friendship with Cullen than any concerns she has about you.”

              “I didn’t realize the Seeker and Cullen were so close,” Evelyn mumbled into her glass. Misplaced jealousy shot through her. Leliana’s eyes twinkled.

              “Jealous are we?” She cooed. Evelyn glowered at her. “Hush, darling. I can assure you, there is nothing there. I think Cassandra views Cullen as more of a brother than anything. Besides, the Commander only has eyes for you.”

              Evelyn felt herself blush yet again, but before she could form a retort, there was a knock on the door and the Ambassador poked her head in.

              “May I join you?” She asked a bit timidly, holding up a bottle of wine. “I brought an admittance fee.”

              “Of course!” Evelyn smiled, thankful the attention was no long directed at her. “Though, I’m not sure one bottle will last long.”

              Josephine smiled and stepped into the room, holding up her other hand.

              “Good thing I brought two then!” She said, shutting the door behind her. The Ambassador looked more relaxed than Evelyn had ever seen her. She wore her long, black hair in a simple braid, loose fitting linen pants, flat slippers and a burgundy silk blouse. She uncorked the new bottle and filled a glass for herself before sitting down. “What did I interrupt?”

              “We were discussing the focus of the Commander's attentions,” Leliana said slyly. Evenly groaned.

              “Oh! Finally!” Josephine exclaimed. “I’ve been positively dying to talk to someone about it.”

              “What are you talking about?” Evelyn asked, sure her face was red as an apple.

              “Only how the Commander can’t take his eyes off you during meetings,” Josephine gushed.

              “Or how _he_ must be the one to read your letters and reports first when they arrive,” Leliana teased.

              “How he reached out to comfort you when you were so angry at the Lord Seeker. It was so sweet!” Josephine giggled and Leliana picked up the list.

              “How he fidgets endlessly when you’re due to arrive; unable to focus, saying he’s going to spend the afternoon with the troops. Yet, he hardly pays them any attention. Eyes on the road, watching for his Herald.”

              Evelyn wanted to slide under the table. She should have known better than to start this conversation with Leliana. The woman was like a dog with a bone – relentless. And too fucking insightful.

              “I’m not his Herald,” she mumbled, gulping down more wine. Leliana laughed.

              “Oh no, you’re Evelyn to him. Even in meetings. Not even a kiss yet and you’ve already got our Chantry boy abandoning formalities in public.”

              Evelyn didn’t ask how Leliana knew anything about what kissing was or was not happening. She just glared daggers at the spymaster who couldn’t care less. Josephine reached across the table and grasped Evelyn’s hand.

              “You must tell me, Evelyn, do you share his feelings?” She asked breathlessly.

              “Don’t you think the radiant flush in her cheeks is answer enough, Josie?” Leliana chuckled. Josephine waved the woman off.

              “I want to hear her say it!”

              Evelyn looked between the two women. She was completely and utterly trapped.

              “Wouldn’t it ruin your chances of trying to marry me off to get influence for the Inquisition?” Evelyn grumbled. And Josephine actually scoffed.

              “Please, Evelyn, I know where to pick my battles. I knew from our first reports that you’d never agree to such a thing. I have other ways of gaining favors from nobles.”

              “Of course you do.” Evelyn drained her wine glass. There was no way out of it now. They had her.

              “So?” Josephine demanded. “Do you enjoy the Commander’s attentions?”

              “Yes,” Evelyn squawked, barely able to get the words out. She was not used to sharing such things. Josephine squealed in delight and Leliana leaned back in her chair with a satisfied smirk. “Just…don’t say anything, okay? Andraste’s tits, this is embarrassing.”

              “How long?” Josephine implored.

              “Oh, I think our Herald and Commander felt stirring that very first day. He comforted her after my blunder.”

              Evelyn’s eyes snapped to Leliana. She had no idea how the spymaster knew about what happened in the cellar. But she didn’t say anything when she caught a flash of regret in the woman’s eyes, even if she didn’t like being the center of attention. She sighed. The cat was out of the bag, she may as well jump in with both feet.

              “He was sweet,” she said, defending Cullen. “He held my hair while I was sick.

              “You were sick?” Josephine excitement was replaced with concern. Evelyn snorted.

              “Yeah, it’s this very lady like tendency of mine when I’m upset. Sobbing and retching. It’s disgusting.” She didn’t talk about how he’d known Lincoln; what he’d said about him. Talking about her brother’s wasn’t something she wasn’t ready or willing to do.

              “What a darling,” Josephine breathed and damn her if Evelyn didn’t grin in agreeance.

              “And he’s handsome,” Leliana said quietly. Evelyn groaned and dropped her head back, fully committed now.

              “Maker is the man handsome,” Evelyn agreed. Both Leliana and Josephine burst out laughing. “With the eyes and the smile.”

              “And the scar,” Josephine offered. Evelyn moaned.

              “The scar! Damn that stupid scar, with the smirk! I swear all he’d have to do is give me that stupid grin and asked me to bed and BOOM!” She slapped the table for affect, the wine now buzzing in her head. “I’d drop my smalls so fast, he wouldn’t know what hit him!”

              Peals of laughter echoed in the war room as the teasing and bantering continued. They’d just opened the second bottle of Josephine’s wine when Cassandra opened the door, scowl on her face.

              “Cass!” Evelyn exclaimed. “Join us!”

              “Do you know what time it is?” The Seeker demanded. Evelyn held up the open bottle of wine and shook it at the Seeker playfully.

              “Time for wine?” She winked at Cassandra when she saw the corners of her mouth twitch.

              “Fine. But only one glass,” Cassandra said, making her way around Leliana to a chair. The spymaster looked up at her friend.

              “Cass?” She asked. The Seeker snorted.

              “I got tired of arguing with her about it,” Cassandra said, accepting the glass of wine from Josephine.

 

              Two bottles of wine later the door opened again, this time, the Commander stood in the doorway with a scowl. He was dressed in casual trousers, a linen tunic, and his fur lined mantel. Maker take her, she loved it when he was out of his armor.

              “What in the Void is going on here?” He growled, his eyes sweeping the room, confusion quickly replaced irritation. His eyes rested on Evelyn. She’d unbuttoned the top of her blouse and pulled her hair out of its braids, letting it fall over her shoulders and down her back.

              “Isn’t she lovely?” Leliana cooed, making Cullen jump.

              “What?” He looked at Leliana, grabbing the back of his neck and shuffling uncomfortably. Josephine giggled.

              “Doesn’t Evelyn look lovely tonight, Commander?”

              “I…uh…of course,” Cullen stammered back, his eyes moving to Evelyn. “She always looks lovely.”

              He seemed to realize what he said when Cassandra choked on her wine. Cullen turned bright red.

              “I um, just….make sure you’re awake for the meeting in the morning,” he grumbled and dropped his eyes. “It’s well past midnight.”

              The women at least waited for the door to close behind him before they burst out laughing.

                                                                                                     ***

              Cullen, at least, was able to regain some of his dignity the next morning when the four women stumbled into the war room.

              “Good morning!” He greeted them brightly. Evelyn moaned.

              “No shouting,” She begged. “By order of the Herald of Andraste.”

              “Herald of Andraste my ass,” Cassandra grunted, a rare curse word passing her lips. “You’re a demon, woman. A demon.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen delivers a special letter to Evelyn and some flirting ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just...fluff. Some good stuff is on the way, though. Stay with me!

“Commander, letter for you.” Jim’s voice cut into Cullen’s patience. Cullen took the letter without looking at the messenger and pointed for the door, knowing the man wouldn’t leave unless actually dismissed. He studied the handwriting on the front of the parchment. It was a tight, even script. One he didn’t recognize.

                “It’s from Ser Trevelyan,” Leliana said, sauntering into the war room. Cullen glanced up at her. Of course, she would know. She’d been monitoring all correspondence since before the Conclave. “I’m pleased your contacts were able to find him. Apparently, our Herald is not the only Trevelyan adept at hiding.”

                Cullen suspected Leliana was a bit irritated her people had not been able to local Evelyn’s brother. After several weeks of no leads, Cullen had offered to use his remaining contacts in the Order, few that they were. He’d had a few ideas of men and women that would align with the Trevelyan cause and had seen out letters.

                “Yes, well, I have a feeling hiding was a matter of survival in their household,” Cullen muttered as he opened the envelope. Two letters fell out, one addressed to him, the other to Evelyn. He carefully set the one meant for Evelyn aside and opened the parchment with his name on it.

 

_Commander Cullen –_

_I must admit to being surprised at hearing from the former Knight-Commander of Kirkwall, but I must thank you for confirming the well-being of my sister. We had feared the worst when word of the Conclave reached us. I am forever in your debt._

_I have been traveling with a small group of Templars and mages, loyal to the Divine and her mission of peace. We wish to join the Inquisition and offer whatever help we may. Perhaps we can serve as an example that mages and Templars can work together._

_Our journey will take some time but we should arrive in two weeks’ time. If you would please give Evelyn the enclosed letter, I would be grateful._

_-R.M. Trevelyan_

 

                Cullen almost smiled at how he signed his letters the same way Evelyn did. He left the letter on his pile of paperwork and stuffed the letter for Evelyn in the pocket of his mantle.

                “I’m going to deliver this to the Herald,” he said. Leliana grinned.

                “I’m sure she would like that Commander.”

                Cullen did his best to keep his steps unhurried as he made his way to the Herald’s cabin. He wanted to give her good news after her difficult trip. She’d been back in Haven for two days; last night in the war room had been the first time he’d seen her smile since she returned. The Fallow Mire had clearly taken it's toll on her. He shook his head and smiled to himself, as he knocked, remembering her flushed cheeks and wild hair as she grinned at him across the table. Even if he had embarrassed himself, seeing her smile was entirely worth it.

                Evelyn pulled open the door and they both froze. Her hair was wet and down and she wore the wool sweater he’d loaned to her several weeks ago. Her long, lean legs were bare. For several long moments, they both stood silent, staring at one another, blushing.

                “Hi,” Evelyn finally said, tugging on the hem of the shirt that barely touched her mid-thigh. Cullen couldn’t help but glance down at those legs again. Maker, they were fantastic legs. He cleared his throat and forced his eyes up.

                “Hey,” He breathed. Evelyn pressed her lips together, clearly trying not to laugh at him.

                “Ah, come on in.” She stepped back and waited for him to step inside before closing the door. She grabbed a pair of pants off the floor and pulled them on quickly. “I’m sorry about the shirt. I just…it’s so warm and comfortable and I get cold at night.”

                Cullen felt his breath catch in his throat. Images of her tangled up in bed sheets, raven hair splayed across a pillow, wearing only his shift flashed through his mind. Running a hand up those smooth legs; the other hand tangled in her hair; cerulean eyes shining up at him. With a monumental effort, he cleared his throat and focused on the woman standing in front of him, rather than the one in his fantasies. When he met her eyes again, though, they were twinkling with mischief, like she knew exactly what that comment had done to him.

                “What can I do for you, Commander?” Evelyn drew out his name, lowering her voice just a little and Cullen felt the fantasies threatening again. This was getting out of control, quickly. So he held out the letter.

                “This came for you today,” he said. Evelyn, still smiling, raised an eyebrow before lowering her eyes to look at the letter in his hand. In a moment, the mischief melted from her face. Large blue eyes glanced up at him, then back down to the letter. Slowly, she took it from him, running her fingers over the handwriting.

                “You found him,” she breathed. With shaking hands, she unfolded the parchment and read the letter. Then read it again. “He’ll be here by weeks end. Oh, thank the Maker.”

                “I’ll make sure we have space for him and those with him.” He wanted to stay but thought maybe Evelyn wanted to be alone. He turned to go, but her hand shot out and grasped his arm. For the first time since the first day he’d met her, Evelyn’s eyes shined with tears.

                “Thank you,” she whispered. Instinctively, Cullen covered her hand with his.

                “Of course,” he said. Then, because he was still worried about her, he asked the question he’d been dying to ask her for days no. “Are you alright? After the last few weeks – Val Royeux, the Fallow Mire? You didn’t seem like yourself in your last letter. I…we were concerned for you.”

                “I’m alright,” she said, just a bit too quickly. Cullen watched emotion flash across her face and then disappear. She pressed her lips together and stared just past him with an expression he was becoming quickly familiar with; the expression she used to gloss over her emotions. Varric referred to it as “going all noble-y.” 

                “Evelyn.”

                She let out a long breath and dropped onto the bench she kept by the door. Cullen sank down next to her, trying to decide if he should try to say something. But he couldn’t think of anything to say, so he remained silent until Evelyn was ready to speak.

                “My brothers – my nice brothers – used to tease me all the time,” she said, her voice soft, lacking its usual intensity. “I read all manner of stories about heroes and heroines. I would make Rawlin and Lincoln act them out with me, and I always _had_ to be the hero. I even made up stories of my own. I’d write them down and let Rawlin read them. There is still a trunk of them locked in the attic of the estate.”

                “I’d like to read those some time,” Cullen said. Evelyn laughed.

                “Maker, I’m sure they’re awful!” She ran a hand through her damp hair. It flicked Cullen’s neck and he shuddered at the touch. Evelyn didn’t seem to notice as she leaned closer to him, her arm pressed against his. “The thing is, I always wanted to be a hero; wanted to save people; save the world. But now that I’m here, I just…I don’t know, Cullen. I don’t know how to do this.”

                “You’ve been the Raven Knight for years.” He looked down at her. “You’re already a hero. You have been one long before this.”

                She shook her head.

                “The Raven Knight is a symbol; it’s anonymous. No one knew it was me. When I was done with whatever mission I was on, I got to go back to being me. Just Evelyn Trevelyan, scandal and disgrace to the Trevelyan name.” She snorted a half laugh. “Being the Herald…it’s different. There’s no mask. It’s just me, yet not me at the same time. It’s complicated and messy and exhausting. And where the Raven Knight can be whatever people need it to be, I’m only me. I can’t be more. What if…what if I’m not enough?”

                Cullen watched her fiddle with the letter in her hands, folding it one way and then another.

                “Well, I don’t know much about being a hero,” he said slowly, carefully choosing his words. “But I don’t believe you should try to be everything, You have to take care of yourself before you can take care of anyone else, or you’ll be no good to them. The entire of the Inquisition is at your disposal, use it. Use it to extend your reach, to be what people need, when they need it. There are people here for you – both as the Herald and as Evelyn.”

                Evelyn didn’t say anything for several minutes. Normally, Cullen would have felt uncomfortable in such silence but he didn’t feel that way with her. In the short time they’d known one another, he’d developed a more companionable relationship with her than he’d had in years. He was comfortable with her – most of the time; when she wasn’t flirting with him, or teasing him. Eventually, Evelyn let out a long breath and leaned her head on his shoulder.

                “You’re a good friend, Cullen,” she said quietly. “It’s been a long time since I had a friend.”

                “Likewise,” Cullen said, smiling down at the top of her head. A warm, electric feeling stirred in his chest. He knew he should push it away; he should gently excuse himself and never let anything like this happen again. She was a noble woman, the Herald of Andraste. He was the son of a farmer, a washed-up Templar with a lyrium addiction. The Breach was still in the sky. There was still a war going on. Now was not the time for this.

                Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to care about any of that. He’d followed all the rules for so long and it had gotten him nowhere. He had listened to the rule and judgment of others and countless had suffered and died because of it. When he’d left Kirkwall, he’d vowed to himself that, while he may pledge to a new cause, he’d trust his own conscious; he trust his own gut moving forward. And his gut told him that Evelyn Trevelyan didn’t give a shit if she was a noble and he was a nobody.

                Evelyn yawned and stretched her legs out like a cat.

                “Maker’s balls, I slept half the day and I’m still exhausted,” she said sleepily. Cullen chuckled.

                “I’m sure it had nothing to do with several weeks on the road and the invasion of the wine cellar last night,” he teased. She tipped her head back, grinning at him, and Cullen fought the urge to lean down and kiss her. While he was confident she’d shown interest, now was not the time. She still had not properly mourned her brothers; she was worn out, tired; Rawlin was on his way. Cullen was a patient man; he could wait.

                “I’ll leave you to get some rest, then,” he said, waiting for Evelyn to lift her head from his shoulder before he stood. “Oh, and keep the shirt. It looks far better on you than me.”

                He left Evelyn gaping at him with delighted surprise – he’d never really flirted with her before.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn's brother arrives and the Herald is faced with an impossible decision.

                “So, you really just walk into the place and get…serviced?” Evelyn watched The Iron Bull’s face for any sign of a lie. Not that she’d be able to tell if the Ben Hassrath agent was lying.

                “Like I said,” he replied in his rumbling voice, then clicked this tongue. Evelyn burst out laughing. Sera stared at the Qunari incredulously.

                “Like, girls on boys, boys on boys, girls on girls?” The elf asked. Bull shrugged.

                “Whatever you want that particular day,” he answered. “Sometimes both at once.”

                “Well. that’s a kick in the pants, innit?” Sera exclaimed.

                “It is if you want it to be,” Bull retorted. Blackwall tipped his head back and howled with laughter. Evelyn watched the three of them as they continued to joke and laugh. This week had been nice. She’d refused to leave until her brother arrived, and her ribs were a bit better, so she had time to grow more acquainted with her ever-growing group of companions.

                Evelyn knew there were some who looked at the circle of people she was gathering around herself and laughed. They were a group of misfits, of outsiders and pariahs, but she loved it. These people were just what Thedas needed to see – representatives of all kinds, coming together despite their dramatic differences, to make the world a better place. She'd been thrust into this role but she was determined to make the best of it - to try and leave Thedas a better place than she'd found it.

                The arrival of a messenger interrupted her thoughts. Evelyn groaned and sat down her beer.

                “I thought I told them no work tonight,” she mumbled. The poor messenger looked terrified at her grumbling and guilt washed over Evelyn. So instead of sending him on his way with the note, she asked his name.

                “Jim, Your Worship,” he said in little more than a whisper.

                “Oooooh, Worshipfulness,” Sera mocked. “Don’t let it all go your head, yeah? Then I’ll have to pull ya down a bit, see?”

                Evelyn took the letter from Jim and nodded her dismissal. She winked at Sera.

                “Well, if my breeches all go missing, I’ll know I’ve gotten too big for them, yeah?”

                Sera’s eyes grew wide in surprise before she burst into laughter. Evelyn smiled as she opened the folded note, recognizing Cullen’s tight, shaky hand.

 

                _He’s here. We’re headed for your cabin. – C_

 

                Evelyn dropped the note and bolted for the door, knocking her chair and leaving Bull, Sera and Blackwall calling after her. Tearing through town, she paid no heed to the people around her, all staring in shock. She made it to her tiny street in record time.

                There, in front of her door, talking to Cullen, stood her brother; her closest friend and confidant. He wore no armor, his black hair hanging just past his shoulders. His gray eyes caught sight of her as she sprinted toward him. Evelyn didn’t slow down and Rawlin simply grinned, opening his arms wide for her. When she barreled into him, ignoring the pain in her stomach and ribs, he was ready for her. His arms tightened around her immediately, squeezing her so hard she could barely breathe. Pain from her injuries tore through her body, but she ignored it. She didn’t care. Her brother was here. Eyes burning with tears she refused to let fall, Evelyn buried her face in her brother’s shoulder and squeezed him back with all her strength.

                “Maker, Evie,” Rawlin breathed, finally pulling back and cupping her face with his hands. “I thought I’d lost you with them.”

                Evelyn’s throat tightened. She couldn’t get any words out so she just grabbed her brother’s hands and held them tight.

                “I’ll leave you two to catch up,” Cullen said quietly, making Evelyn jump. She’d almost forgotten he was there. “I already have the kitchen preparing some food to bring over, Ser Rawlin. I’m afraid all we have available for sleeping arrangements is a tent.”

                “He can stay with me,” Evelyn offered quickly. She would never admit it aloud, but she desperately wanted Rawlin nearby. He was the only family she had left - the only family that mattered anyway. When Rawlin offered no protest, Cullen nodded.

  
                “I’ll have someone find a cot,” he said. He turned to leave but Evelyn reached out of his hand.

                “Thank you,” she said, squeezing his fingers. To her delight, he squeezed back.

                “It was my pleasure, Evelyn.”

                Then he was gone and like she found more frequently, she felt a bit empty at his absence. But then, her brother was pulling her inside the cabin and closing the door behind them. She looked up at Rawlin to see tears forming in his eyes and once again, she flung herself at him.

                Evelyn cried in earnest for the first time since the explosion that tore apart her life. She cried for the world, for her country, for Thedas. She cried for the Divine, for the hundreds of lives lost and the thousands who had lost loved ones. But mostly, she cried for her brothers; finally and truthfully mourned them.

                Rawlin cried with her. She was the only one he ever allowed to see him vulnerable – the result of a lifetime of hiding emotions for the fear of them being manipulated. They were each other’s shelter in the storm that had been their home. He’d postponed leaving for the Templars until he was eighteen. Only he knew of the true terror Ruslan had been for her. So he’d stayed, doing what he could to protect her for as long as he could. And when Evelyn had finally left the family estate, she’d run to the Hasmal Circle, where he was stationed. The Trevelyan name carried weight even there, and she was allowed to stay in the Templar quarters until she found lodging of her own. Even then, whenever she was in town, she’d stop to see him.

                When a servant delivered a tray of food and a bottle of wine, they settled on the bed to eat. Facing one another, legs crossed, they talked as they ate.

                “Where are the others that were with you?” Evelyn finally asked around a piece of chocolate cake. Rawlin smiled sheepishly.

                “I couldn’t wait any longer, so I rode ahead,” he admitted. “The others will arrive tomorrow. There are about two dozen Templars and a handful of mages. And Adalyn.”

                “Addie’s with you?” Evelyn washed down her cake with wine. “I thought she was with the rebel mages.”

                “She was but when the Conclave exploded, she joined me in Jadar. We thought…”Rawlin’s voice caught in his throat. “We mourned you. The three of you, when word came there were no survivors. I never…that was the worst night of my life, Evie.”

                Evelyn knew words wouldn’t help, wouldn’t change anything, so she just reached for his hand. Rawlin accepted it and cleared his throat a few minutes later.

                “Have you…have you had word from Ruslan or Arden?” He finally asked tentatively. Evelyn didn’t let go of his hand, but she looked away. Pressing her lips together, she shook her head.

                “Our Ambassador wanted to write to ask for financial support,” she said with a tight voice. “I told her it would cause more harm than good. When I got back from the Fallow Mire a few days ago, a letter was waiting for me. He said that the title of Herald had somewhat cleaned the mud from my reputation and he’d been able to arrange an ‘advantageous marriage agreement with a gentleman from the Emerald Graves.’”

                “Are you serious?” Rawlin asked. Evelyn looked at her brother.

                “Not a word about our brothers,” she continued. “No inquiries as to my well-being. We haven’t had any contact in four years and the first thing he tries to do is sell me like cattle.”

                “What a fucking arse,” Rawling growled. Evelyn smiled at her brother’s anger.

                “I wrote him back. I told him that I hadn’t been for sell when I lived at home and I sure as shit wasn’t for sale now, and he could shove that marriage arrangement up his arse, along with the all the others.”

                Rawlin laughed and they settled back into easy conversation. Eventually, they set the tray of food on the floor and lay down, heads at opposite ends of the bed and continued talking. Evelyn wasn’t sure when they fell asleep but the sun rose long before she was ready.

 ***

 

                “We must make a decision,” Josephine said, once again calming the arguments over the war table. A headache pounded in Cullen’s head and he gripped the pommel of his sword to keep his hands from shaking. He knew Evleyn had strong feelings regarding the treatment of mages. While he was doing his best to remove himself from his prejudices, the thought of a village full of mages unnerved him.

                Evelyn sighed and pushing herself off the table. It was their third meeting of the day and she’d pulled her hair down an hour ago, as she tended to do when she was tired and frustrated. It distracted Cullen terribly. All he could think about, besides Haven being overrun with mages, was running his hand through those black waves. Evelyn didn’t pay any attention to him now, though, staring at the map. Her eyes flickering back and forth between the markers on Redcliff and Therenfal, she raked a hand through her wavy tresses.

                “Give me the night to sleep on it,” she finally said. “I’ll have an answer in the morning.”

                Cullen watched Evelyn turn and leave without another word. The advisors exchanged concerned glances, sorted out a few details regarding their assignments and then went their separate ways. He saw Evelyn at a distance several times throughout the evening, once hugging one of the female mages that arrived with Rawlin’s group, but never had the chance to speak to her. He did speak to Rawlin, organizing the newly arrived Templars and assigning them to help train the new recruits streaming into the village. Cullen found himself drawn to the youngest of the Trevelyan boys and was thankful to have more Templars among them. Despite everything, they still felt like his brothers and sisters; even if the lyrium in their blood sang to him.

                Nightmares woke him once again in the middle of the night, so he pulled on his clothes and headed out for a run. He spotted Evelyn sitting at the end of the dock before he even started. Her hair was down still, tucked into a blanket she had wrapped around her shoulders. Cullen sat down next to her, letting his feet hang over the frozen surface of the lake. He glanced sideways at Evelyn. She stared straight ahead, one hand clutching the blanket around her shoulders, the other turning a ring on her finger.

                Neither one of them spoke and Cullen, once again, found himself surprised at how comfortable he was in her company. She didn’t look at him until he shivered in the cold night air. Without a word, she held out a corner of her blanket for him.

                “No fancy mantle tonight, Commander?” She asked. Her voice was hollow and sad. It made Cullen’s heart ache. Wanting to be close to her, to help fill the emptiness and take away some of the sadness, Cullen accepted the offered blanket. Evelyn had to press herself into his side for them to both fit underneath it.

                “I was going for a run,” he said.

                “That’s the second time I’ve interrupted your run,” she said, twisting the ring around her finger with her thumb. Cullen shrugged.

                “I actually hate running,” he said. “I’d much rather spend time with you”

                If she noticed his attempt at flirting, she didn’t respond. Disappointment washed over him until he saw the ring she continued to twist on her finger. The Trevelyan Family ring. Then he felt like an arse, trying to flirt with her when she was clearly upset.

                “I saw you give one of the rings to a mage today.” He proceeded carefully. “Was she Killian’s lover?”

                “Lincoln’s,” she said. Cullen felt his mouth drop open. Evelyn looked up at him and smiled knowingly. “Her name is Adalyn. I never figured out how they made it work, how they were never caught, but they’ve been together for years. They escaped Ansburg together once war broke out and came south to find Killian. That’s when they first started working with Cass and Leliana.”

                It was the first time he’d heard her speak of her brothers since that first day. He knew she’d not spoke to Leliana or Josephine and Cassandra said she never spoke of them while traveling. He reached out and stilled her hand, twisting the ring until the crest faced upward.

                “You wear this well,” he said quietly. To his surprise, Evelyn snorted.

                “Ruslan would vehemently disagree,” she said, her voice tinged with the same disgust as always when she spoke of her eldest brother. “Only Trevelyan men are meant to wear the ring. In fact, I’m sure he vehemently disagrees with all of this – the Inquisition; me being the Herald of Andraste; me wearing armor and carrying weapons. I should be married off popping out heirs or tucked respectfully away as a Chantry sister somewhere.

                “You don’t seem to get on well with him,” Cullen remarked. Evelyn shrugged but he could see the tight line of her lips in the moonlight, the hardness in her eyes.

                “My brother is a prig. He saw me as little more than livestock, ready and willing to sell me to the highest bidder to further his own means. And when he wasn’t trying to sell me, he did everything he could to control me, manipulate me to behave the way he wanted. I hate him,” she growled. After a minute, she sighed. “He wasn’t always that way. He and Killian were close before Killian was taken to the Circle. It changed everything. My parents were devastated and my grandfather used that to sink his claws into Ruslan and Arden. That was when I began to understand how careful I had to be in my home; how to hide my emotions or anything important so it couldn’t be used against me.”

                Evelyn didn’t say more and Cullen didn’t press her. He’d likely already pushed his boundaries for tonight. Silence stretched between them again. An owl hooted in the woods. Somewhere in the distance, a wolf howled, answered by its pack moments later. Cullen wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Evelyn sighed.

                “I can’t decide, Cullen,” she whispered. “I don’t know how to choose. I sympathize with the mages. I believe they have a right to freedom; to not be locked in a cage because of something that isn't their choice. They have elderly and children with them and they need our help. Yet, I believe in the Templars – at least in what they are meant to do. I understand the need for them. I know magic can be dangerous. But I also know how dangerous men can be with a sword and power. Both could be dangerous yet we need both and I believe in both. How can I choose between them?”

                “Maybe you don’t have to,” Cullen offered, though he knew how unlikely that was. “Maybe you can get both.”

                “The mages will not come if the Templars are already here. You know that.”

                “Then speak to the mages first.” Cullen couldn’t believe what he was saying, but he could not deny that the mages had children with them. The Templars, for the most part, were all adults. Or nearly. And Evelyn was right – it would be better if they had both parties, but the mages would never come if the Templars were here first. He sighed.  “Take care of the children and the elderly. Then approach the Templars. The work you and your brothers were doing to gather support - there may be some still out there who weren't at the Conclave. There must be those remaining who still believe in what the Templars are meant to be. There must.”

                She leaned her head on his shoulder for the second time that week.

                “I hope so,” she said quietly.

               

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always seen Cullen at this point as being, mostly, reasonable as far as mages go. We see him struggle, we see him protest the free mages and we see him struggle with withdrawal, but I don't feel like he's still truly scared of mages simply because they are mages. He becomes friend with Dorian and if you romance him as a mage, it's hardly an issue at all. It's mentioned, like, twice. So, in my mind, if the Herald went to him with this kind of viewpoint on mages v. Templars, he could at the very least be logical about it.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen gleans some understanding into the Herald.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maker, forgive me for the delay! Life is hard sometimes. And busy. But here you go! I'm still actively writing and have several chapters pre-written. Don't give up on me yet!

                He’d been surprised at how quickly she’d bristled when he said he wouldn’t allow her to be bait. He'd seen her anger before but he did not like having it directed at him. Not even his acquiescing to the plan she and Leliana had proposed had cooled her anger. She’d stormed out of the war room without so much as a glance at him. At first, he was upset, disappointed. Then he got angy as well.

                He was only doing his job. She was the Herald and the only means of closing the Breach and the hundreds of rifts open all over Thedas. His role as the Commander was to keep her safe – as safe as possible – and allowing her to be the bait in a known assassination attempt was beyond ridiculous. It was bad enough that she’d brought home a Tevinter mage and insisted he have free reign in the town.

                Cullen stalked to her cabin. He knew Evelyn well enough at this point to know he couldn’t stop her from pursuing this, but he could at the very least make sure she heard him. Try to make her see reason. To promise to be cautious. He pounded on her door and waited, pulling together his argument. When Rawlin answered instead, Cullen’s words left him.

                “Ah, Commander. I’ve been expecting you,” Rawling smiled and then continued when Cullen could muster no response. “Evie told me about the meeting. I’ve been instructed to not tell you where she is.”

                Cullen snorted.

                “My job is to keep her safe,” he argued his point, though he wasn’t sure why. Rawlin had accused him of nothing but he words seemed to flow out of his mouth unbidden. “To allow her to approach a Magister accompanied by another Tevinter mage, into what we know to be a trap? I’m aware she thinks this to be the best course of action, but she refuses to listen to council. Her stubbornness will get her killed.”

                “It isn’t stubbornness, Commander,” Rawlin said, his eyebrows raised at Cullen’s impassioned speech. Cullen felt a blush warm his cheek when he realized how it must have sounded; how possessive he must appear. “You don’t understand what it was like for her after our parents died. They raised her to be independent and courageous. They not only allowed her to dream of being a hero, but encouraged her, trained her from a young age. And when they were gone, my grandfather and brother tore away her freedom, her choices, for their own benefit. They dressed her up in pretty dresses and paraded her around like a show horse to be sold for the highest bidder. And when she did not comply, which was often, the punishment was swift and severe. To say that you would not allow her to do something; to hear that from you, someone she trusts…”

                Rawlin did not have to explain any further. Cullen’s stomach twisted at the man’s words. He could not imagine Evelyn in such an environment; to see someone trying to snuff out the wildness that burned so brightly in her. It must have been torture for her. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He still didn’t like her plan but at least now her anger made sense.

                “Where is she?” He asked.

                “At the tavern, likely drowning herself in whiskey.” Rawlin turned to go back inside, then paused and looked at Cullen again. “I see the way you look at her; how she looks at you. Be careful with her, Commander. There are still parts of her past that haunt her.”

                “Of course,” Cullen murmured, grabbing the back of his neck.  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten a talk from a protective brother.

                “And don’t ever tell her I said anything,” Rawlin grinned. “Or I will have hell to pay.”

                Cullen chuckled imagining Evelyn turning her wrath on her brother. He gave the Templar his thanks and then headed for the tavern. Flissa greeted him and filled a flagon with his favorite ale, then pointed to the back of the room. Cullen wasn’t sure how he felt about the woman knowing what he was doing here without him having to say anything.

                Tucked into the back corner at the small table sat Evelyn and the new mage, Dorian. A shot of misplaced jealousy ran through him when Evelyn laughed at something the mage said. Dorian’s preferences were clear within moments of meeting him. Cullen knew there was no competition there but he still wished he were the one making her laugh. Instead of eliciting the frown that pulled at her lips when she caught sight of him.

                “Knight-Commander Cullen,” Dorian drawled, smiling up at him slyly. “Come to escort the evil blood mage to the dungeons before I succeed in my attempt to corrupt or kill the Herald?”

                “Commander,” Cullen corrected the mage, ignoring the rest of the underhanded comment. “I left the Templar Order.”

                “I wasn’t aware that was thing.” One finely manicured eyebrow arched as Dorian spoke. Cullen cleared his throat. This was the last thing he wanted to talk about.

                “It is uncommon.” It was all he offered. “I’ve actually come to speak with the Herald, if I may.”

                Dorian stood gracefully and excused himself with a flourish. Cullen watched the man saunter across the bar to where Iron Bull sat with Krem. He shook his head at seeing a Tevinter and a Qunari talking at least somewhat civilly. That was something he never thought he'd see. When he finally sat down, Evelyn was watching him closely, her arms loosely crossed over her chest.

                “I owe you an apology,” she said, dropping her eyes. “It has been brought to my attention that you were simply trying to protect me. Not…use me for personal gains. My reaction was unwarranted.”

                Cullen leaned forward, the motion drawing her eyes up once again. He held her gaze when he spoke.

                “I would never do that,” he said. Evelyn looked away again, her jaw tight. She reached for her glass of whiskey but Cullen stole her hand. Blue eyes snapped to meet his once again. “My primary goal in everything is to keep you safe.”

                “So we can close the Breach.” She held his gaze, carefully watching his reaction. It took him a few moments to realize why she said that. When he finally remembered his words in the war room, he sighed.

                “Evelyn, I cannot deny that we need you to close the Breach; that losing you would cripple us. But I swear to you, I do not see you as just a tool to be used. You are my friend, the closest one I’ve had in a long while, and I want to keep you safe. Not the Mark. You.”

                She looked away again but she did pull her hand from his.

                “Thank you, for saying that,” she said. Taking a deep breath, she squeezed his hand and then let go, picking up her drink and taking a sip. When she set it back down, she looked back at him. “I know this is dangerous, Cullen, but something must be done. If doing it this way means putting fewer lives in danger than trying to storm the castle, then it’s a risk I’m willing to take. There has been enough blood loss already and who knows how much more is yet to come.”

                A part of him wished he didn’t respect her so much for what she said – that same protective part that had caused her to follow her to the cellar all those weeks ago. He wanted to whisk her away from here, from all the danger around her, and keep her safe and whole. Even if it wasn’t his place to do so.

                But he did respect her and he knew, if given the choice to leave, she’d stay right here and fight with them. Mark or no. That was who she was, just like Rawlin had said – independent, courageous; a hero. He shook his head, realizing how much she must have hated Ruslan trying to use her as a pawn.

                “And you’re sure we can trust the Magister?” He asked. Evelyn raised a finger and smirked at him.

                “Not Magister, Altus. They are not interchangeable, despite what you southerners believe,” she corrected him in a delightfully accurate imitation of the mage's voice. Cullen laughed into his beer, froth spraying up into his face. Evelyn chuckled and shrugged. “I’m not saying I’d put my life solely in his hands at this point, but he seems sincere. Leliana has people keeping an eye on him and I put him in a tent next to Addie. She’ll be able to sense any sinister magic, should he attempt any.”

                “I’m impressed, Herald. How very wily of you.” Cullen raised his glass in a salute and then took a drink. Evelyn smirked, a dangerous gleam in her eyes.

                “Oh Commander, you’ve only just scratched the surface of my wily ways.” And then she wiggled her eyebrows at him and Cullen dropped his head back and laughed out loud.

                They spent the rest of the evening there, talking and laughing. Rawlin joined them shortly after sundown and the three of them drank well into the night. When Cullen fell into bed, he slept without nightmares for the first time in weeks.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn returns from Redcliff, the dark future haunting her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this is riddled with errors - I just really wanted to get this up before life gets too busy again. I'll likely edit at a later date but for now, hopefully its not to distracting to enjoy. 
> 
> Thanks for all the kuddos you're sending my way!

“You doin’ alright, Raven?” Varric asked.

                Evelyn and a few others had ridden ahead of the main party to prepare Haven for the arrival of the mages. Her, Varric, Dorian, Bull and Cassandra were a day ahead, only a few hours from the village and she was dreading their arrival.

                “I’m fine,” she lied, not looking at him. She was exhausted, raw. She couldn’t look at any of them without seeing red eyes and spikes of red lyrium growing from them. Her sleep was riddled with nightmares. Not even her waking hours brought her peace. She felt Varric’s eyes on her for several moments before he seemed to give up and urged his horse forward until he pulled even with Cassandra. Evelyn watched the two of them speak in hushed tones. The Seeker glanced back at her, eyes narrowing on her face for a moment before turning back to the dwarf.

                A wave of nausea rolled over Evelyn as she remembered the hollow echo of Cassandra’s voice; the red glow of her eyes; her body being tossed like a lifeless doll through the doors of the Redcliff Chantry, followed by Bull. Panic clawed at Evelyn’s chest and she closed her eyes, digging her nails into the palms of her hands, trying to push the images away; trying to anchor herself in reality.

                “I can hardly look at them without losing my mind and barely know them,” Dorian said softly, riding up to her side. Relief washed over her. She didn’t have to find words for him. He’d been there; he understood the terrors. There was no longer any doubt in her mind as to his loyalty. She wouldn’t hesitate to put her life in his hands. He'd risked his life just as much as the others; had fought next to her; nearly died next to her. “I don’t know about you, but after our meeting at the big table, I’m going to drown myself in a bottle of the finest vintage of wine I can dig up.  Though, I don’t have high hopes for the later part of that. Care to join me?”

                “Maybe,” Evelyn said. “I planned to steal of a bottle of whiskey from Flissa and then go hit something until it breaks. Or I do.”

                “And you tried to convince me that southerners aren’t all barbarians.” Dorian winked at her and Evelyn managed a grin for the first time in days.

 

***

 

                Cullen kept his eyes on Evelyn as the war council stood in the hallway. She was thin, gaunt, and she stared at the wall like she was paying no attention. Even when Cullen had lost his temper over her full alliance with the mages, she hadn’t flinched. She’d just said something diplomatic about needing the mages' cooperation. Evelyn was hiding behind her mask once again.

                When the meeting ended, the Teventir announced his intention to stay and Evelyn actually reacted to that, a wide smile making her eyes shine. Whatever had happened in that dark future had created a bond between the two of them Cullen had seen many times - one that could only be forged in battle. He was still uncertain as to the man's true loyalty but he would say nothing against him staying if it made Evelyn happy. Cullen thought about staying to talk to her, to try and see how she was truly doing but she was speaking with Leliana and he had mages to prepare for. Just the thought of a town full of mages made his heart race. Now more grateful than ever that Rawlin and his small band of Templars had joined them, Cullen gathered his things to go, when he saw Evelyn reach for Leliana’s hand.

                “You died,” Evelyn whispered to the spymaster, her voice uncharacteristically small. “You sacrificed yourself so Dorian and I could get back. I watched as demons ripped you open.”

                A visible shudder ran over Evelyn’s body. She didn’t look at Leliana, her shoulders hunched over, eyes glued to the war table. Cullen was torn between going to prepare for the mages’ arrival and staying to make sure Evelyn was alright. Until Leliana looked up at him and gave him the slightest of nods before turning her attention back to the Herald.

                Satisfied that Evelyn would be looked after, he left to find Rawlin. The two of them worked well into the night planning rotations, assigned the mages an area of camp outside the village wall. Everything was constructed to allow vigilance without stifling their new allies, per Evelyn’s request. Leliana joined them briefly after dinner to let them know Evelyn had retired for the night. It was nearing midnight when Jim came running into Cullen’s cabin.

                “Commander, Ser Rawlin, something is wrong with the Herald,” the man gasped. Cullen froze.

                “What is it,” Rawlin demanded.

                “I…I’m not sure, Sers. She…well, she’s out on the training fields with the dummies. She’s been there for hours and, well, she looked ready to collapse. I tried to get her top but it was like she didn’t hear me.”

                “Fuck,” Rawlin said under his breath. He muttered a string of curses and then looked at Cullen, jaw tight. “I may need your help.”

                Cullen nodded and dismissed Jim before following Rawlin out into the night.

                “Do you know what’s going on?” He asked the Templar. Rawlin nodded but didn't answer for a few moments. The snow crunched under their boots, echoing in the quiet night air. The breach turned everything and eerie green as the two men made their way through Haven to the gates.

                “Sometimes, when things get…bad, Evelyn gets angry.”

                “That’s seems normal,” Cullen said, unsure of where this was going. The other man just shook his head.

                “It’s not. Normal, that is. I don’t know what it is, she just…goes into these blind rages; beating anything and everything into a pulp. It can go on for hours. It’s bad, and not just for those around her. She won’t stop until she literally collapses.”

                Culled had seen Evelyn angry but he couldn’t imagine her in such a state. Even when angry she was restrained, controlled. She was precise, calculating, kind, and considerate. In a moment, though, he didn’t have to imagine it. He and Rawlin ducked through the small side of the main gate and there she was, just where Jim said she would be. He and her brother both stalled at the sight.

                She was dressed all in black once again, just like that night he’d found her throwing daggers in the woods, standing in front of the dummy closest to the lake. Even from where he stood, Cullen could see she was drenched in sweat, her fisted hands coated in her own blood.

                “Shit,” Rawlin cursed. “Shit, shit, shit, shit. I should have seen this coming after reading those reports. I should have been watching her.”

                Cullen wanted to argue with him; to tell him it wasn’t his fault, but he couldn’t form any words as the two of them started for the Herald once again. He watched as she hit the dummy over and over and over again, never flinching at what had to be searing pain every time her knuckles made contact. Her form, as always, was good but he could see just the smallest hint of sluggish exhaustion as she danced back and landed three kicks to the side of the dummy in quick succession.

                Rawlin looked at Cullen, his expression grim.

                “Commander, normally I wouldn’t pull anyone into this, but…” the man closed his eyes and ran a hand though his black hair. “But if she doesn’t listen to me, you need to make sure she hears you. She needs to stop.”

                Cullen just nodded, unsure of what else he could or should do. The entire situation had him beyond confused. He’d never seen anything like it. Rawlin sighed and then started for his sister, mumbling under his breath as he went.

                “I should have put on some fucking armor.”

                Cullen hung back and watched as Rawlin positioned himself behind the practice dummy and stood silently for several minutes. It was like he was allowing Evelyn to acclimate to his presence. Then the Templar began speaking, repeating the same phrase over and over again.

                “Slow down, Evie. Talk to me.” Rawlin kept his voice calm and even but Evelyn didn’t acknowledge him. She juts continued with her routine. Jab. Jab. Hook. Cross. Kick. Kick. Cross. Repeat. Cullen was beginning to wonder how much longer Rawlin was going to continue when he finally moved around the dummy.

                “Evelyn, stop.” Rawlin reached for her arm but Evelyn just shrugged him off. The man closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, his frustration clear. He opened his eyes and tried again with the same result. The third time finally elicited a response.

                “Get off me,” Evelyn growled. Cullen flinched at her voice. It was vicious, mean. He’d never heard anything like it coming from her. 

                “You’ve been here long enough,” Rawlin said. Evelyn punctuated each word of her response with a blow to the dummy.

                “Leave. Me. Alone.”

                “Okay, Evie, stop!” Rawlin’s patience broke and he reached out for her shoulder, trying to turn her away from the dummy. Evelyn growled again, spun towards her brother, and landed one of the best right hooks Cullen had ever seen.

                A resounding crack echoed across the valley as Rawlin stumbled back. Blood poured from his nose.

                “Fuck, Evelyn!” Rawlin howled. His sister just turned back to the training dummy, resuming her routine while Rawlin continued to yell curses and Cullen hurried over to them. He pulled out his handkerchief and handed it to Rawlin, who immediately pressed it to his nose. “Than’ you.”

                “I, ah…” Cullen stammered. He glanced at Evleyn, entirely unsure of what to do now. This was not something he knew how to handle. Rawlin, however, was in no condition to continue. “I’ll handle things here. Go get patched up.”

                Rawlin glanced from him to Evelyn and back again. For a moment, he seemed to hesitate. Then the blood from his nose soaked through the cloth pressed to his nose and began dripping down his arm. Cullen let out an exasperated sigh and waved him off. Once the Templar's footsteps had faded, the only sound in the valley was the dull pounding of the Herald's blows on the dummy. Cullen glanced up at the sky and whispered a quick prayer before turning to Evelyn and pulling together a strategy. Taking a hint from her brother, he stood behind the dummy, ready to block a blow should it come. Evelyn kept her eyes focused forward, sweat rolling down her face. Her breathing was ragged, gasping; her arms shook with every hit. She was exhausted.

                “Evelyn,” he said quietly. When she did not respond, he changed tactics. “Herald.”

                Her eyes flickered up at him and then dropped back down. Cullen suppressed a shudder at the coldness in her eyes. He did not like what he saw there - those were not they eyes of the Evelyn Trevelyan he knew; the woman who threw herself into helping the refugees in the Hintherlands; the woman who sat with Solas for hours learning all she could about elvish culture to ensure better relations with them; this was not the woman who played drinking games with Bull and Blackwall well into the night, hair falling out of it's knot, eyes sparkling with joy and mischief. The woman in front of him now with the stony expression and empty eyes was not his Evelyn Trevelyan and he wanted her back. Cullen sucked in a deep breath and tried again. 

                “I know you’re tired,” he said slowly. “I know what happened in Redcliff was difficult. Just…talk to me, Ev.”

                Evelyn’s movements faltered then. She paused her beating, blinking fiercely. Then she shook her head and resumed, her punches lacking their previous force.

                “I can’t.”

                “Okay, don’t talk.” He dared to move around to her side, reaching out and gently, very gently, grasping her shoulder. “But, please, stop. Please.”

                Cullen was surprised at the sudden emotion in his voice; at his pleading with her. He hated seeing her so angry, so broken. It reminded him too much of himself after Kinloch and he would not watch anyone succumb to that. Especially not her. She meant too much to him…and the Inquisition.

                To his relief, Evelyn stopped, dropping her hands to her side. For a moment, the two of them simply stood here, the cold breeze brushing over them. Then Evleyn’s knees gave out.

                Cullen reached out to break her fall, sinking to the ground with her. They knelt in the snow, face to face, Cullen gently grasping her arms. He could feel her muscles shaking and trembling under his grip. Evelyn dipped her head, staring at the ground, her shallow, fast breathing the only noise in the still mountain air.

                “I can’t look at them,” she finally whispered, her voice so quiet Cullen could barely hear here. “Every time…every time I look at them, I see red lyrium.”

                She shuddered. Then she flexed her hand open and closed. Cullen released her arms and took her hands gently in his, careful not to touch her knuckles where the skin had been worn off to the bones.

                “Sometimes, I can’t tell what’s real and what isn’t,” she breathed and Cullen realized why she hadn’t flinched when striking with raw knuckles. He understood it all too well – how the pain kept you grounded, gave you something to hold on to. He also knew there was little he could do to drive that need away. His mistake all those years ago had been shutting it all inside; not talking to anyone. He’d clung to all the fear and pain, thinking it would shield him; that it would make him stronger. It had just turned him into a blind, weak fool.

                “It was awful, Cullen.” Another shudder. “Everyone. All of you were dead. You…you died leading our forces against the castle. Trying to rescue me, even though you didn’t even know if I was alive.”

                She finally looked up at him. He eyes were dry but haunted. She searched his face, her mouth pulled into a thin line. Hair was plastered to her face, her skin red with physical exertion. Her cheeks were hollow and the circles under eyes had darkened more since that morning. Unable to help himself, he gently cupped her face with his hands, his heart skipping a beat she closed her eyes at his touch.

                “I am so sorry, Evelyn.” A part of him wanted to tell her about Kinloch and the nightmares and the lyruim. He wanted her to know that she wasn’t alone in her pain. Yet, he didn’t want to worry her; to add another burden to the load she already carried. Before he could say anything else, though, Evelyn leaned forward, resting her head on his chest.

                He wasn’t sure what to do at first. The move was strangely intimate and he sat there, frozen in indecision, wondering if holding her was crossing yet another boundary that he shouldn’t. But he liked it; liked that she leaned on him for comfort; like the feel of her against him. So he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer, the smell of her lilac soap just barely lingering under the smell of sweat.

                They stayed like that for a while, snow seeping through his pant legs. It was cold but the heat rolling off Evelyn’s body muted the effects of the air. After awhile though, even she grew cold. When she started shivering, Cullen reluctantly pulled away.

                “Let’s get you back to your cabin,” he said. “Can you walk?”

                Evelyn nodded wearily, so Cullen stood and then reached down to pull her to her feet. She took one step and then started to go down again. Cullen managed to slip an arm around her waist to keep her upright. Evelyn leaned into him and they slowly made their way through town.    

                Cullen tried not to think about how naturally she fit against his side or how her hand clenched tightly to his waist. Or how he loved being the one she’d finally spoken to; loved the trust it showed. He tried not to think about how badly he always wanted to be that person for her or how much he wished he could slide into her bed with her and hold her through the night. He tried and failed. Something about this woman calmed the turmoil inside his soul and he did not want to let her go. 

                When they finally got to her cabin, Rawlin was asleep in his bed, a pile of blood-stained cloth on the ground. Evelyn winced when she saw it. Cullen deposited her on the bed and then turned to the wash basin. He found some cloth, a rag and a regeneration potion in the cabinet and wet the rag. When he turned back to the bed, Evelyn had stripped out of her clothes and was wearing his over-sized sweater again. She’d also pulled a bottle of whiskey out from somewhere.

                “Whiskey?” He asked, quietly pulling a chair over to sit in front of her. She nodded.

                “My father used to drink it,” she said, her voice raspy. “I picked it up when he died. Kind of makes me feel like he’s here again. Smells like him.”

                “Take it with some elfroot?” He held out the potion but Evelyn shook her head.

                “I want…I need to feel it.” Her voice was soft but her gaze was steady. “In case I can’t tell what’s real.”

                Cullen hated the idea of her being in pain but he understood. So he carefully took the hand not holding the whiskey and began cleaning it. She didn’t so much as flinch. When he was done cleaning the wounds, he tore the cloth into strips and wrapped her hand.

                He glanced up at her as they switched hands. She stared at the wall, taking a sip of whiskey straight from the bottle. His shirt had slipped off her shoulder, revealing a circular scar on her skin, about the size of his thumb.

                “What’s that scar from?” He asked, hoping to distract her. Evelyn looked at him and then followed his gaze to her shoulder. She snorted.

                “The hot end of a cigar,” she said. When she saw the confusion on her face, she continued. “Ruslan. I snuck out of one of his lets-find-a-husband-for-Evelyn dinner parties. He found me with a soldier of one of the visiting families in the Butler’s Closet and got angry.”

                Cullen froze, a wave of rage rolling over him. No wonder she didn’t react to pain. She spoke of the burn so flippantly, it couldn’t have been the only time. He tried to say something but he was so angry he couldn’t form any words. Evelyn smiled at him.

                “No need to defend my honor, Commander,” she said, just a hint of teasing in her voice. “I took care of that myself. The Raven Knight took a sudden interest in Trevelyan holdings shortly after – horses, merchant ships, property. He lost quite a bit of money that season. After I broke his nose, of course.”

                He smiled at the ferocity in her voice and just like that, she cooled the rage burning inside him. 

                “You do have a mean right hook,” he said. He watched her eyes rest on her brother, still fast asleep on the other side of the room. He remembered what Rawlin said about Evelyn’s past; about the things that haunted her. “Did they know? Your brothers?”

                She dropped her eyes to meet his as he finished wrapping her hand.

                “Rawlin did,” she said quietly, all amusement gone from her face. “It’s why he waited for so long to leave for the Templars. Killian left when I was seven, Lincoln when I was twelve. Arden…he’s always been blind to Ruslan’s cruelty. I don’t know why and I stopped asking a long time ago. I got tired of being disappointed.”

                Cullen clenched his jaw and stood up, putting the chair back at the desk while gathering his thoughts.

                “Evelyn, I…” he moved to stand in front of her again, to say he was sorry again, but she cut him off.

                “You were angry today,” she said, changing the subject. “About the mages. After you told me to go after them.”

                Cullen sighed. This conversation just kept going downhill. He wasn’t sure he wanted to broach the subject, to open the door to that particular part of his life tonight. Especially after what she’d just said. He never wanted to be the one to disappoint her. And disappointed she would be. Still, she had shared with him. Perhaps it was only fair for him to do the same.

                “I have a…sorted history with mages,” he said slowly. “Things…happened during the Blight that…changed me. My feelings toward mages after that changed dramatically. And Kirkwall was a mess. I don’t know how much you know…”           

                “I know who you are,” she said quietly. “I always kept close watch over the Marches as the Raven Knight. Even did some missions in Kirkwall. Met the Champion once.”

                Cullen’s heart sank into his stomach. He’d hoped, foolishly, it wouldn’t follow him here. Though, he supposed it was inevitable with mages coming. Some of them were bound to know him from Kinloch or Kirkwall. Either one could get ugly.

                “I…if you,” he paused, searching for words, grabbing at the back of his neck. “I did not have a reputation for being a good man. If you knew who I was, why have you been so kind to me?”

                “Is there a reason I shouldn’t be?” She asked, an eyebrow arched. Cullen shifted uncomfortably.

                “I was not…I am not proud of the man I was.”

                “Ah.” Evelyn looked away again. She didn't say anything for a long while and Cullen was beginning to think the conversation was done, when she asked him a question. “Do you know who trained me?”

                “What?”

                “My mother.”

                Cullen felt his mouth drop open.

                “She was the youngest of eleven children, lost in the shuffle of a busy Orlesian noble family and somehow – Maker only knows how – she survived with a good heart. She wanted to make a difference, so she used her families money to train and she created the Raven Knight.” Evelyn smiled and looked up at him. “She was a thief who gave what she stole to those in need. Anyone  - human, elf, Orlesian, Teveinter. She didn’t care. Everyone deserved a chance to be more, to change, to grow. She trained me and she taught me to believe in people, despite where they were from or who they were or what they’d done.”

                Cullen dropped his head, eyes burning with unexpected tears. He shook his head.

                “You don’t know,” he said. “You don’t know the things I said, the things I did, the things I allowed.”

                “Fear makes us do stupid things,” Evelyn whispered. He saw her hand reach for his and without really realizing it, he grasped it and squeezed gently. “Most people never crawl out of that deep pit. You did. You are. That is admirable, Cullen Rutherford.”

                She pulled on his hand and guided him down to sit on the bed next to her. Surprising himself yet again, he settled back and accepted the bottle of whiskey from her. For a few minutes, they sat in silence, fingers still intertwined. She pressed herself against him and dropped her head on his shoulder.

                “Are you okay?” He asked after a while. She took a drink from the bottle.

                “No,” she whispered. “But I will be. Thank you for being here. It helps.”

                “Anytime, Evelyn,” he said, hoping she understood it for the vow it was.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen and Solas discuss Evelyn and their affections for her.

    “Commander, a word, if you will.”

    Cullen glanced up from where he stood over his desk. His neck and back ached from hours of work, but he still had piles of paperwork to go through. The sun was low in the sky, turning the clouds deep shades of indigo with touches of pale pink.

    “What can I do for you, Solas?” Cullen felt himself tense when he saw Solas leaning against the door jam, the sunset creating a halo around his tall, lithe body – far taller and well-built than any elf Cullen had ever known. Something was off about the apostate, something he couldn’t put his finger on, and the man made him uneasy. The only person who seemed to share his concern, however, was Leliana. It didn’t mean much, though, considering the woman was suspicious of everyone.

    “My knowledge of the arcane is extensive.” The elf slid into the room, and Cullen fought the urge to reach for his sword at the apostate's slinky movements. The mage set Cullen on edge – the secrets and slyness always flickering behind his eyes – but if Solas noticed, he did not acknowledge Cullen's tension. “However, the Breach is an unprecedented challenge for me, and I am concerned by the idea of Evelyn channeling the amount of magic required to close it. The mastery she gained of the Mark is impressive, but she is no mage.”

    “I am aware,” Cullen said. Solas arched an eyebrow and studied Cullen for a moment before continuing.

    “So I imagine,” the elf drawled. “Seeing as such, I came to request the assistance of the Templars in suppressing the Breach, so reducing the amount of magic required to flow through the Herald.”

    Cullen let the idea roll around in his head. It was possible, though they’d have to be precise with the arrangements of the Templars so their suppression wouldn’t interfere with the mages. He’d need to go up to the temple to map it out, to plan. What’s more, he wasn’t sure what the Templar abilities would do to the Mark or Evelyn. He’d have to practice it with her and Rawlin.

    “I’ll start planning,” Cullen said. “Though, I am concerned about the effect a Silence could have on the Mark. And on Evelyn, if she is channeling the magic from the mages.”

    “Having witnessed the Herald and the Lady Seeker fight side by side for months now, I do not anticipate a threat,” Solas spoke calmly, and for a reason Cullen could not really sort out, the elf’s nonchalance raised his ire.

    “Perhaps you are willing to risk the Herald’s well-being, based on what I imagine is less than ideal observation in the midst of battle, but I am not,” Cullen growled. His irritation increased when his anger elicited only amusement from Solas.

    “I assure you, Commander, I do not take Evelyn’s well-being lightly. Did I not stay at her bedside for days before I even knew her, an apostate in the midst of a Chantry camp? Have I not since protected her in battle, healed her wounds, offered guidance as she navigates the perilous path you helped set her on?”

    Cullen dropped his gaze back to his desk, anger still rolling through him, directed at himself now. He’d been thoroughly chided and rightfully so. He was acting like a total arse.

    “My apologies,” he mumbled. “I do not know what came over me. You, of course, care for the Herald.”

    “In my experience, lyrium withdraw tends to elicit ill-timed emotional responses.”

    Cullen’s head snapped back up, his eyes meeting the calculating gaze of Solas. The two of them stared at one another for several tense moments.

    “How?” Cullen barely managed to get out. Solas shrugged.

    “I can sense it, or rather the lack of it, in you,” Solas explained. “It is no small feat to cut the ties that bind Templars to the Chantry. Does she know?”

    Cullen looked away again, uncomfortable with both the idea that Solas knew his secret and that the elf did not have to explain who “she” was. The mage read him all too well.

    “No,” he said, trying desperately to remain casual, even as a headache began pounding at the base of his skull. “I do not suspect she would care much.”

    “If there is one thing I have learned about our Herald, Commander, is that she cares deeply. Especially those she considers dear and I suspect she would care about your struggles more than most.”

    Cullen watched Solas turn to leave, his heart pounding with both hope and trepidation. To hear from someone else that Evelyn may care for him made him almost breathless. And yet, Solas spoke of her with a fondness he had never heard come from the elf before. They traveled together, fought together. Perhaps there was something more than Cullen realized.

    “Do you care for her?” He blurted out before he could stop himself, instantly feeling the blush rise in his cheeks. When Solas turned to look at him, that damnable eyebrow raised in amusement once again, Cullen grabbed the back of his neck and shifted uncomfortably. He should have left well enough alone.

    “Of course I do, Commander,” Solas said matter-of-factly and Cullen’s heart dropped a bit “She has become…a friend when I least expected. She has shown wisdom and ferocity and compassion in a nearly impossible situation. She has shown a genuine interest in my people, not just scholarly, but true concern for the oppression we face – a quality exceedingly rare in humans.

    “So yes, I truly care for Evelyn, but you have no need to worry. My interest in women lies solely in my own race and even if it did not, it is quite clear where Evelyn’s interest lies, Commander.”

    “There you are, Solas.” Evelyn’s voice coming from behind the elf made Cullen jump, but Solas just winked - winked - at him and then turned to the woman standing in the doorway. “I’ve been looking for you. I need some help with one of those Elven texts we found. What are you doing in here?”

    Evelyn’s eyes flicked back and forth between Solas and Cullen, suspicion clear on her face. Cullen’s throat closed, his mind racing to come up with an explanation for the conversation he’d just been having, but Solas responded entirely unshaken.

    “We were discussing the closure of the Breach, falon,” Solas said. “I’ve asked Cullen to organize the other Templars so help suppress the Breach so the magic required to close it is reduced.”

    Evelyn frowned for a moment, clearly going over the idea in her mind, then nodded.

    “Anything that reduces the energy I have to move through the Mark. I am not looking forward to that – it hurts bad enough when I close a normal breach.” Evelyn paused and looked at Cullen. “Join me for a drink later? I ride out in the morning for the Hinterlands. Again.”

    Cullen smiled at the grimace on Evelyn’s face at the mention of the Hinterlands. 

    “Sure,” he said, his heart skipping a beat when she grinned at his response. Cullen watched her and Solas leave, their heads bent together, slipping into some academic discussion of elven language. Watching her interact with Solas, thinking about the fondness and respect in the elf’s voice when he spoke of Evelyn, Cullen decided to let his concerns over the apostate go. It would do Evelyn and the Inquisition no good if he were always questioning the integrity of one of the Inner Circle – and by extension, Evelyn’s judgment.           

    With a sigh, Cullen sank into his chair and stared at the stacks of paperwork on his desk. The distraction of Solas and Evelyn, now removed, the headache that had started only minutes before was now raging. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back. He’d rest for a bit and hope the headache would go away before diving back into work.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bull helps pull Evelyn from a nightmare and then has a talk about the blonde haired Commander.

_The red lyrium sang in her veins, calling to her, pulling her. She tried desperately to shut it out to focus on putting one foot in front of another. But the screams of prisoners rang in her ears, and the bone splintering roar of the beast outside shook the walls of Redcliff Castle again. Demons pounded at the door, their screeches grating on her spine._

_“Evelyn.” Cullen’s voice echoed in her ear, the unmistakable echo of red lyrium in his words. She whipped around to see him standing in the middle of the throne room, red crystals growing out of him. His expression was menacing, his glowing ruby eyes fixated on her, sword in hand._

_A sob caught in her throat. This wasn’t right; they’d stopped this. She and Dorian had gotten the amulet; they’d gotten home. Cullen hadn’t let the army of demons and red templars against her; he hadn’t driven his sword through Cassandra; demon’s hadn’t torn through Leliana. Not yet. They still had time to prevent it all. She and Dorian had gone back. Evelyn gripped her daggers tighter and took a step back from the approaching Cullen, only to stumble over something behind her._

_She caught herself with an outstretched arm and scrambled to her feet again, Cullen still approaching, but when she looked down to see what she’d fallen over, her knees gave out. Dorian’s lifeless body lay on the ground, eyes open in death, blood pooling around him, the amulet shattered on the floor next to the body._

_“No,” Evelyn gapsed. “No, no, no, no, no.”_

_Could they have failed? What if everything that had happened in Haven after Redcliff had just been a dream; an escape from this reality? What if they had really failed. Desperation rose in her chest; tears poured down her face; her heart raced as she scrambled away from Cullen who stalked her like prey._

_“The Ancient One has come to claim you,” Cullen’s voice echoed. Evelyn tried to push herself up, but Cullen lunged forward suddenly, grasping her shoulder and pressing her back into the stone wall. She cried out in pain, her shoulder wrenching awkwardly in red Cullen’s grip as she struggled against him. “This was inevitable, Evelyn.”_

_She hated the way he said her name - so familiar and yet so foreign. This wasn’t Cullen - not her Cullen - she reminded herself as she switched her grip on her dagger._

_“Please, Cullen, don’t make me do this,” she begged. “Please, it’s me.”_

_A purely wicked smiled pulled at his lips, that beautiful scar twitching and Evelyn sobbed again._

        _“I know,” he purred. Before he could do anything else, before she could second guess herself, she slipped her dagger between the gap she knew was in his armor and plunged it into his side. Cullen’s eyes went wide; the red glow faded until familiar golden irises stared back at her. And when he spoke, the hollow echo was gone from his voice, and he said her name with a soft sorrow. “Evelyn? Why?”_

 

     Evelyn sat straight up on her bedroll, gasping for breath, heart racing wildly. Images of red templars and demons and glowing red eyes flashed before her eyes. She tried desperately to push away the terror clinging to her from the nightmare; tried to fight the images her mind wanted to hold on to, but she couldn’t shake them. Panic rose in her chest, she fought for air, thoughts racing with red lyrium and blood and death and Cullen looking sadly at her, wanting to know why she’d killed him. Then a low, rumbling voice broke the hold of the terror.

     “It’s all right, Boss. You’re in the Hinterlands. It’s night, and you’re in a tent with Dorian and me.”

     A large, heavy hand settled across her shoulders, and Evelyn allowed the weight to pull her back to reality. She blinked several times, clearing the residual images. Quiet darkness surrounded her, the side of the tent billowing gently in the night breeze. Outside, she could see the orange glow of torches and the shadows of the guards as they made their way through rotations. When her gaze finally settled on Bull, he smiled at her reassuringly.

     “There she is,” he said, his rumbling whisper loud in the silence. Evelyn took a deep breath and nodded, her eyes falling on the form of Dorian curled into Bull’s side. For a moment, the panic returned, the memory of him lying dead at her feet flooding her with dread. Then she saw his chest move with a slow steady breath and her panic eased. Then she noticed that his slender hands clung to a big, bare Qunari arm. Evelyn looked back up at Bull who just shrugged at her.

     “He was having nightmares too,” the warrior explained. “Only instead of whimpering Cullen’s name, he was whispering yours.”

     Evelyn felt her cheeks go red. She hoped Bull couldn’t see her blush. Knowing him, though, he wouldn’t have to see her to know it. He probably had special night eyesight or some other secret Qunari ability to see in the dark. Shifty bastards.

     “Though, I’m pretty sure your name wasn’t on his lips for the same reason Cullen’s was on yours,” Bull continued when Evelyn didn’t respond. “The Vint’s interest lay with his own sex. You’re just a friend - the best friend he’s had in years. But that’s irrelevant right now - let’s talk about you and the Commander.”

     “There’s nothing to talk about,” Evelyn whispered with embarrassment and irritation. “And even if I wanted to discuss my relationship with Cullen - or whatever it is - with you, I sure as hell don’t want to do it in the middle of the night.”

      Bull just grinned at her, his face now visible that her eyes had adjusted to the dark, unaffected by Evelyn’s outburst. She was about to snap at him again when she realized any lingering affects of her nightmare were gone. The Qunari’s smiled widened when she narrowed her eyes at him. Of course, he’d been trying to distract her.

     “Clever bastard,” she whispered, eliciting a chuckle from Bull. Evelyn lay back down and pulled her blanket back up. “When did you know about Cullen and me?”

     “When you turned down my offer for a tumble in the sheets.”

      Evelyn snorted.

      “You really believe you’re so irresistible, the only way I’d turn you down is if I were interested in someone else?”

      “Normally, no,” Bull answered as Evelyn rolled over to look at him. “But with someone like you, yeah.”

     “Someone like me?”

      “You’re not as rigid about sex as most people down here - especially nobles. You’re okay with using it to blow off steam or have some fun, but you haven’t for awhile. Since this all started, which is weird because you like it. It’s an outlet for all the other stuff you can’t let out. And it’d take more than just casual interest in Curly to turn me down - you’re invested.”

      Evelyn didn’t respond right away. In the dark, Bull’s eye held her gaze steadily while he waited for her to speak. She couldn’t deny what he was saying. It wouldn’t matter even if she tried - Bull would see the lie for what it was and call her on it. She was invested. It had happened without her realizing. First, Cullen had just been someone who had caught her in a weak moment and had still respected her. Then, he’d become a friend, a confidant, in the madness that seemed to unravel in the world around the. There wasn’t a single moment she could identify when it had become more; when he became the first person she went to when she was happy or sad or scared. In just a few short - and very long - months, Cullen Rutherford had taken up residence in her soul.

      She sighed and rolled back over, staring up at the top of the tent. Bull’s eye was still on her.

     “It doesn’t matter,” she said quietly. “Even if I am. I’ve got too much...baggage. He’s not gonna want to take that all on.”

     “Something tells me the Commander gets baggage,” Bull countered. “We all have it, Boss. Don’t be so sure he couldn’t handle yours.”

      Evelyn rolled over to her back again and stared at the red fabric of the tent. She’d revealed a bit of her baggage to Cullen that night after Redcliff, and he hadn’t balked. If anything, he’d relaxed around her even more since then. Almost like he was relieved she had her own scars. She felt hope ignite in her chest but quickly stomped it out. Getting her hopes up was always a bad idea - everything always went to shit, and they were way too close to trying too close the Breach for something to not go wrong. Maybe - maybe - if they all got through that she’d think about investing more.

       “Thanks, Bull,” she whispered, hoping he’d let it go for the night. The Qunari, as usual, seemed to know what she was thinking.

       “Anytime, Boss.”


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen is sick and Evelyn finally gets to take care of him for a change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Straight up fluff, yo.

The tavern was loud, full of mages celebrating their freedom, the growing number of recruits and the Chargers have just returned from their scouting mission at Therinfal. The reports had not been promising - the old Templar stronghold eerily quiet and, as Krem said, creepy. Cullen had gotten progressively more stern as Bull’s second had given his report in the war room, and had stalked out of the room without a word when Krem was done. 

Evelyn sat at her favorite corner table with Dorian, watching the crowd. Cullen was supposed to meet her but she’d seen no sign of him. After his hurried exit earlier, she was beginning to worry. 

“I won’t be be cross if you want to go find him,” Dorian dralwed. Evelyn looked at him. 

“What are you talking about?” She scowled when Dorian laughed at her. 

“Darling, you look at the door every time it opens, hoping, expecting. It’s sweet really, how you two try to hide it.”

Evelyn took a drink of whiskey and settled back in her chair, eyes on Dorian. She mumbled into her glass. 

“I’m not looking for anyone.” 

“So you sleep in his shirt but can’t admit that you’re desperately waiting for him to walk through that door so you can see him after weeks on the road.” 

She’d known it would be a mistake taking that damn shirt on the trip to the Hinterlands. After Redcliff, after that night, she’d wanted it with her. They’d fallen asleep sitting up on her bed and it smelled like him again - leathery and spicy. In a moment of weakness, she’d thrown it into her pack. Then Cassandra had recognized it; blurted it out in front of everyone and they had teased her mercilessly. Thankfully none of them had said anything to Cullen yet. 

The door swung open and Evelyn glaced over. Then groaned when Doran started laughing. 

“Maker’s balls.” Evelyn finished her whiskey with one sip and slid out of her chair. “Shut up, Pavus.”

“You love me,” he shouted after her as she wove her way through the crowd. Evelyn flipped him a rude gesture, only making him laugh harder as she pushed open the door. And ran head first into the solid mass of the Iron Bull. He reached out and caught her before she fell backwards. 

“I gotcha, Boss,” he said as he steadied her. “You lookin’ for the Commander?”

“Why does everyone think that?” She demanded. “There are dozens of things I could be doing.”

“Okay, okay. You got it, Boss. So, where are you headed in such a hurry?” He asked. Evelyn felt her face turning red and she dropped her gaze, hoping Bull wouldn’t see. But Bull started laughing. “Saw him duck into his cabin a little while ago. Didn’t look so well. There’s been some sickness going around, maybe he caught it.”

Evelyn mumbled her thanks and hurried down the street, yet another companion laughing at her. Cullen’s cabin wasn’t far but when she knocked there was no answer. She knocked again, but still nothing. There was light flickering inside. She considered leaving - it would be rude to just walk in - but then she remembered Bull saying Cullen had looked unwell. 

She opened the door slowly and poked her head in. 

“Cullen?”

“Hmm..”

Evelyn followed the muffled noise to a pile of blankets on the bed. A head of golden hair poked out of them, wet with sweat, eyes pinched closed, skin pale. He looked awful. Evelyn slipped inside, shutting the door behind her. 

“Cullen, are you alright?” She approached the bed cautiously. This was probably too much. She was crossing a line, intruding when he didn’t feel well. Just was she was deciding to leave, Cullen’s eyelids fluttered open and honey eyes locked onto hers. 

“Evelyn?” His voice was weak and slurred. Evelyn furrowed her brow and dropped onto her knees next to the bed. Gently, she touched his brow with the back of her hand to find it warm to the touch. Very warm. Sweat drenched him, curling his hair into tight little ringlets. She knew now, at least, where Varric got that nickname. 

“You’re burning up.” She was on her feet in a second, found a cloth and dipped it into the washbasin on the small dresser. She rung it out, folded it and placed it gently on the Commander’s forehead. He closed his eyes and groaned at the contact. Next, she started pulling the layers of blankets off him. 

“Don’ do tha,” he mumbled. “Cold.”

“You’ve probably drenched the bottom blanket,” she said gently. “I’m gonna take it off so you have a dry one, okay?”

Cullen mumbled his consent and Evelyn removed the last of the blankets, indeed wet with Cullen’s presperations. She tossed it in the corner and then piled a few blankets back on top of the Commander. Cullen rolled onto his side, his eyes flickering open again as Evelyn knelt down next to him once more.

“Hey,” she said, unable to keep herself from brushing a few curls off his forehead. Cullen attempted to smile. “Do you want me to get you some soup? Or tea?” 

“Nuh…” He blinked several times, clearly trying to focus. “You’re beautiful.”

“Smooth talker,” Evelyn chuckled. A shudder ran down Cullen’s body and he closed his eyes once more. 

“You should go,” he gasped as though he were in pain. “I don’t want you to worry about me.”

“Not the way it works,” Evenly said, smiling when Cullen scowled. “You’ve taken care of me more than once. Now I get to return the favor.”

Cullen grunted in protest and then fell silent. Evelyn watched him sleep, something tugging at her heart that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Her heart began to race but she drew in several long, deep breaths to steady it. Now was not the time to deal with this. She was closing the Breach in a few days. Perhaps after that she’d let herself see where this went. Maybe. if she could dredge up the courage. 

Eventually, she made a bed on the floor out of a few blankets and blew out the candle. What seemed like minutes later, she was woken by the clank of armor and cursing. She groaned and rolled over before opening her eyes. Cullen stood frozen in the corner of the room, his breastplate hanging from his hands. His face was still pale and his skin still had a light sheen of sweat. 

“Running away, Commander? And here you were so sweet last night, calling me beautiful and all,” she teased. To her delight, a bright red flush crept up his cheeks. Laughing, she pushed her blankets off and stood up. “Ah, it’s been awhile since I got a good blush out of you. Good to know I’m not losing my touch.” 

“Maker’s breath,” he breathed. Evelyn just laughed. Then she issued the order she knew she’d have to give. 

“Go back to bed, Commander.” She crossed the room and opened the door. “If I see you out working today, I’ll make you blush so red you won’t be able to show your face for a week.”


	15. Chapter 15

“Cullen, give me something! Anything!”

\---

“Hold them back, Cas!” We’ve got to get this trebuchet turned!”

\---

“A fucking Archdemon?” Rawling shouted. Evelyn felt herself shaking with fear. This was not anything they’d anticipated. She stood up, watching as the dragon flew over Haven. “Evelyn!”

Rawlin dove, pushed her out of the way. She hit the ground just as she heard the sickening sound of an arrow piercing armor and sinking into flesh. Heart pounding, she rolled over to see Cassandra cutting down a Red Templar. And Rawling laying on the ground behind her, an arrow sticking out of his gut.

“No, no, no, no, no, no.” She crawled over to him. Her brother looked at her, eyes wide and distant. She screamed. “Solas!”

\----

“What of your escape?” The sadness in Cullen’s eyes nearly tore her in two. She should have known better than to get attached. Everything always went to shit. And this was shit of epic proportions. She should have known all of this was too good to be true - friends, companions, Cullen. Evelyn raised a finger at him, trying to be sure; strong.

“You get them out,” she demanded. “You get my brother out and fire the signal.”

His honey eyes held hers for just a moment before he nodded.

“If we are to have a chance, if you are to have a chance, let that thing hear you.” His voice was rough, uneven. He was trying to be strong too, and Maker help her, she loved him for that. So she winked at him.

“Never had a problem getting anyone to hear me,” she said. “Don’t worry, Curls, I won’t go down without a fight. Dorian, Bull, Cass - with me.”

\----

She grabbed Bull and Cassandra in a break of Red Templars while Dorian followed, casting runes behind them.

“When the time comes, I want you to go,” she said under her breath, taking the time to meet each of their gazes. She waited until the both nodded. “Dorian won’t want to go.”

“I’ll take care of him, Boss.”

\---

“Evelyn!”

She could hear Dorian yelling for her.

“Put me down you overgrown behemoth! Evelyn!”

His shouts faded as a figure appeared in the flames, stalking toward her. Imposing. Huge.

“Andraste's tits,” she said to herself. “I am so fucked.”

\---

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Everything hurt. Her ribs. Her shoulders. Her legs.

Blood trickled down her face.

She was alive though. Screw that mother fucker, she was alive.

Evelyn Trevelyan does not go down that easily.

\---

Maker, the cold burned.

The world was white. Wolves howled.

She thought she heard Dorian scream her name.

Then a campfire in the blanket of snow.

Thank the Maker - she was going the right way.

\---

One foot in front of the other.

Keep going.

_ I won’t go down without a fight _ .

She’d promised him. She wasn’t going to go this way.

The world did not get to take her like this.

\---

It didn’t hurt anymore. That wasn’t good.

That was bad. That was very bad.

Images floated behind her eyes of the dark future. She saw their faces, heard their voices.

The Elder One did that.

Corypheus.

She couldn’t let him win. Bastard.

She had to protect them. Protect her friends.

One foot in front of another.

\----

Then, mercifully, a valley. The cliffs rising on either side of her were finally breaking the wind.

There were tents. Maker be praised, there were tents.

And someone running towards her.

She felt her knees give out and finally just let herself sink into the snow. Her eyelids dropped. She was tired. So fucking tired.

Then there were strong arms around her. Familiar arms. Safe arms. Scents of leather and spice. Something settled over her shoulders and she sighed at the warmth. Then she was scooped up and he was whispering in her ear.

“Hang on, Evelyn. Please, hang on.”

And because it was him, she’d fight just a little longer.

\-----

She could feel the magic coursing through her; singing in her veins; pulling her body back together. Evelyn opened her eyes to the warm glow of firelight and the deep red of an Inquisition tent. Something moved next to her and she turned her head, pain shooting down her neck, to see Cullen sitting next to her bedroll.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“Hi.” She barely got the words out of her sore throat. They came out as a squeak. Cullen frowned and turned away for a moment. Evelyn tried to pull herself up but the pain that rolled over her body almost made her pass out again.

“The healers took care of the worst of your injuries,” Cullen said, setting down the water skin he’d grabbed and helping her sit up. “But everyone is pretty drained of mana and our lyrium supply is severely limited.”

“I’m okay,” Evelyn breathed, biting back a gasp of pain. Apparently broken ribs didn’t count as a serious injury. Cullen waited to make sure she was steady on the edge of the couch before handing her the water skin.

“Slower,” he warned. “You’ll make yourself sick.”

She scowled at him but lowered the water skin. The cool water soothed her parched throat.

“Rawlin?” She asked, her voice smoother now.

“Alive and mended. Mostly. I made him go rest a few hours ago. He was….displeased with me when he woke up and found you were still in Haven.”

“And everyone else?” She whispered, not sure if she was ready to hear if the news was bad.

“We won’t know the extent of the loss until we find somewhere to settle,” Cullen said seriously. “However, your advisors and companions all survived relatively unscathed, thanks to you. Although, Dorian is in quite a state. I’ve learned more Tevene curses in the past twelve hours than most do in their entire lives.”

She remembered Dorian yelling for her as Corypheus stalked her. Evelyn shuddered.

“We need a war council,” she said, panic rising in her chest. Corypheus could not wait. Cullen frowned and opened his mouth to protest. “Now. It’s too important to wait.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recovering in the mountains...

 

“Solas, can I ask you a question?” Evelyn watched the elf as he contemplated the stars. The camp glowed behind them casting competing shadows with the veilfire torch The echoes of that song still echoed in her mind; the way her heart swelled and contracted at the same time; hope and fear competing for residence in her chest. Solas glanced at her, one eyebrow raised. 

“I would think by now you know I enjoy your questions, falon,” he said. Evelyn smiled and then looked up at the sky. 

“In all your time in the Fade, have you ever heard of anything like what Corypheus told me? Do you know  _ anything _ that could help us?” She was trying not to sound desperate but was not succeeding. Solas was quiet for some time and she felt his eyes on her. 

“It is, I am afraid, something I have not come across,” he said. Evelyn thought there was something odd in his voice - regret; uncertainty - but she couldn’t be sure. “I will make inquiries of my friends, but the Fade is fluid, ever changing, and most spirits tend to remain in their small, fraction of the whole. I wish I could do more.” 

“You’ve given us a place to go. For now, that’s all we need.” Evelyn turned to him, wincing as she reached out to squeeze his arm in gratitude. “Thank you, Solas.”

“Ra is ma’neral,” he said, placing his hand over his heart. “If you give me a few hours, I can finish healing your ribs, should you desire.”

“I’ll find you if I need you.”

 

\---------------

 

“If you ever do something like that again, I’ll drag you out of the Fade and then kill you myself.” Rawlin glowered at Evelyn from his cot. Adalyn rolled her eyes at Evelyn as the mage ran her hands over Evelyn’s ribs. Magic tingled under her skin. The shoulder pain she could deal with but hiking through feet of snow with broken ribs sounded like a hell Evelyn wasn’t willing to deal with. 

“That should be sufficient,” Adalyn said. Her voice was high and sweet and matched her delicate features and petite body. Strawberry blonde hair hung straight down her back and green eyes ran over Evelyn’s body, assessing her injuries. 

“i’m fine,” Evelyn said, ignoring her brother and focusing on Adalyn. The woman was thin and pale, dark bags under her eyes. Guilt swirled in Evelyn’s stomach as she realized she’s barely spent anytime with the woman she considered her sister. With a smile, she slipped her arm around Adalyn’s shoulders. “Addie and I are going for a walk. Get some rest.”

Adalyn smiled up at her and slipped an arm around Evelyn’s waist. Rawlin mumbled something unintelligible as the two of them slipped out of the tent. 

“I’m happy you’re alright,” Adalyn said, squeezing Evelyn’s waist. “After the Conclave...it’s nice to have a victory. Even if it’s a small one.”

Her voice hitched at the mention of the Conclave and she clutched the ring that hung on a chain around her neck. Her Trevelyan ring. Another wave of guilt ran over Evelyn. 

“How are you?” She asked quietly. “I’ve barely seen you since you arrived.”

“You’ve been busy,” Adalyn deflected. “It’s quite all right.”

“I shouldn’t ever be too busy for family I meant it when I gave you that ring, Addie. You and Rawlin are the only family I have left - the only family that matters, anyway.”

They came to the same ridge Evelyn had stood on with Solas barely an hour earlier. The vielfire still burned casting silvery blue light on Adalyn’s face. Evely could see silent tears on her face. 

“I miss him,” Adalyn whispered. “Everyday, I wake up excited to see him, and then remember he’s gone. It’s like half of me is missing.”

A small sob escaped the woman and she covered her face with her hands. Heart breaking, Evelyn turned and wrapped her arms around the small woman. She didn’t know how long they stood there. Cullen caught her eye once, his brow pinched in concern until she smiled at him and waved him away. Finally, Adalyn drew in a long breath. 

“He’d be proud of you,” she said, still in Evelyn’s embrace. “All the good you’ve done. Slipping into this role with grace and dignity. They’re going to make you Inquisitor.”

Evelyn snorted a laugh.

“Maker, can you imagine?” It was meant to be a joke but Adalyn and stepped back and nodded solemnly. 

“Lincoln used to tell me stories about you, dreaming of saving the world. He always told me it would be you that people thought of when they heard the name Trevelyan, not it’s devoutness and modesty. Modest in temper, bold in deed. He always said you were the only one who really lived up to that.”

“He clearly hasn’t seen my temper recently, then,” Evelyn joked, trying to ease the pressure in her chest. Adalyn chuckled softly. 

“Perhaps. Still, they would be fools hot to ask you to be Inquisitor. You’ve already led them so far. Your brother would be so proud.”

 

\-------------

 

“I told you, Boss, the Inquisition needs someone to lead.” Bull offered her an enormous hand and lifted her out of the snow drift she’d fallen into. It was their third day of climbing through snowy mountains and wind. She hadn’t been truly warm sine Haven. Ahead of her, Cullen pulled his mantle tightly around his shoulders and she immediately regretted turning that bear into a rug. 

“Yeah, but me?” Evelyn huffed. “I’m a disowned, run-away rouge.”

“That’s what you were,” Bull corrected her, his one eye pinning her in place. “Now, you’re the woman who walked in the Fade, saved refugees, ended the fighting between the Templars and mages, closed the Breach, saved all these people and faced an Old God and lived to see another day. Herald of Andraste.”

Evelyn tore her gaze from the Qunari and started up the mountain again, taking four steps to his one. She watched the people move around her - Cullen’s soldiers, Leliana’s scouts, her companions, civilians, merchants. These were her people, she realized. Somehow in the last four months, they had become hers. These were the lives she’d been willing to die for. Her chest tightened until she almost couldn’t breathe. She’d never had that before. Still, it didn’t mean they would follow her, just a nobleman’s disreputable daughter with a childhood dream of being a hero. 

“They’ll follow,” Bull said. Apparently reading minds was part of Ben Hassrath training. “You’ve earned their loyalty. They’ll follow wherever you ask.”

“At least until you order them to be carried off by a brute.” Dorian stalked past them, melting a path through the snow with his staff. Evelyn sighed and watched him pass. Those were the first words he’d spoken to her since screaming for her as Haven burned. 

“Dorian…” She called after him, but he didn’t so much as pause. Bull dropped a hand on her shoulder, nearly making her knees buckle. 

“Don’t worry about him, Boss. He’ll come around. Just doesn’t know how to deal with caring so much.”

“Has anyone every told you how creepy it is when you do that?”

Bull’s booming laugh echoed off the mountains.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moments at Skyhold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get this up so I'm posting without editing. Sorry if there is a terrible amount of errors - I'll come back around and make fixes later.

Vivienne glared at Evelyn, who supposed anyone else might have been intimidated by the glare. Growing up as the granddaughter of William Trevelyan, however, had made Evelyn impervious to power plays.

“I hear what you’re saying, Viv.” That was her power play. Evelyn knew Vivienne hated the nickname, but it was a useful reminder of who was in charge. The Madame’s sense of decorum would not allow her to correct her social superior. “Now, I need you to hear what I’m saying - we are here to stop Corypheus, and we cannot do that if we are divided by old prejudices and misunderstandings. I’m aware the potential danger a spirit presents, and you will have to trust that precautions are being taken. For now, he has done nothing but try to help and I will not punish him for trying.

Vivienne held her gaze for a moment and then nodded gracefully.

“As you wish, Inquisitor. I was only trying to assist you.”

“I know Vivienne,” Evelyn kept her breathing even to keep the irritation from her voice. She knew the enchantress always meant wall and she didn’t intend to punish her for that any more than she did Cole. “And I appreciate your desire to ensure the image and reputation of the  Inquisition, especially since such things are not a strength of mine. ON that note, I was hoping you could help me order my wardrobe.”

Vivienne lit up, a grin spreading across her face. She inclined her head again.

“I shall get to work right away, Inquisitor.”

“Evelyn is still just fine, Viv.”

\-------------

 

“You handled Vivienne quite well, Inquisitor.”

Evelyn watched Josephine flutter about her new office, brushing off a piece of dust here, straightening a piece of art there. Where she’d found artwork in the few days they’d been at the castle, Evelyn had no idea.

“I do have some qualities of noble still ingrained in me,” Evelyn joked, but the Ambassador didn’t seem to notice. She scribbled notes furiously, then returned to tidying up the room. “Josie…”

“Oh! Yes, my apologies, Inquisitor!” Josephine paused in her cleaning and turned toward Evelyn, all business; all avoidance. “We need to discuss how we intend to handle the nobility who will begin to arrive as soon as repairs are under way.”

“What?” That threw Evelyn off, which was no doubt Josephine’s intention.

“We are becoming a political entity; you are now a political leader. Haven…”The Ambassador’s voice hitched at the mention of their former home. “Haven, and your survival after successfully closing the Breach has catapulted us into relavance. Nobility will start pouring in, wanting to meet the Inquisitor, wanting to attach themselves to the new power in Thedas.”

Evelyn held back a groan. The last thing she wanted to do was spend her time with visit nobility. And if she knew the nobility at all - which she did - there would be a slew of marriage requests coming her way as well. Evelyn pushed herself off the desk where she’d been leaning and approached her Ambassador.

“We can worry about that later, Josie,” she said. “I’m more worried about you.”

“M..me?” Josephine stuttered, which was the first time Evelyn had ever heard the woman hesitate when speaking.

“I know you lost a few aides in Haven,” Evelyn said. “People who have been with you for years. I’m sorry, Josie.”

“Yes, well….” Josephine’s voice faded and she looked away, staring out the painted windows, unshed tears shining in her eyes. “We all lost something that day; it will not do for me to be distracted by my emotions. There is too much to do.”

“You can’t keep it all bottled up inside, Jo.” Evelyn took her gently by the shoulders and Josephine looked back at her, those brown eyes surprisingly defiant. “It’s okay to mourn; to cry for those you lost.”

“And what of you?” Josephine demanded. “You lost your brothers; you lost everything in that dark future and yet you do not take time to mourn?”

Evelyn almost laughed. Clearly, Leliana had kept her word and told no one of Evelyn’s breakdown the night she returned from Redcliff; the night Cullen had practically had to carry her back to her cabin.

“Believe me Josie; I mourned, just….not in the way that most people do.” Evelyn squeezed the Ambassador’s shoulders and then let go. “Besides, I get to hunt and kill the people that hurt me, and that tends to be a quite effective release.”

Josephine held her gaze for a few more moments, but the defiance quickly seeped out of her. With a sigh, she nodded her head.

“I suppose you are right, Inquisitor.”

“Good to hear.” Evelyn winked at her, then pulled her into a quick hug before starting towards the door. “And stop calling me Inquisitor when it’s just us, Josie! You know how I feel about that.”

She thought she heard Josephine mumble something about having her hands full as she stepped through the door that led to the Great Hall but decided to leave it be for now.

 

\--------

 

“I should have figured I’d find the three of you where the alcohol was.” Evelyn fell onto a log next to Blackwall. Across the fire, Sera and Varric passed a bottle of whiskey back and forth. Two weeks had passed since she’d been named Inquisitor and she’d barely had time to breathe. She nearly groaned when Blackwall handed her his bottle of whiskey. “Oh, Maker Bless you, Blackwall.”

She took a long pull, letting the liquor burn down her throat.

“How you holding up, Raven?” Varric asked. Before Evelyn could answer, Sera snorted.

“How do you think she’s doin’? She’s running ‘round so fast, she’s prolly dizzy!” Sera paused to take a drink. “An’ now we’re gonna have all these noble tits running here to see the great Inquisitorilaness. Fucking prats. Don’t give us the time of day when we need their help, but as soon as we all almost die, they all show up.”  
“What she said.” Evelyn smiled and took another swig of whiskey before handing the bottle back to Blackwall.

“Don’t let the nobility get to you,” Blackwall rumbled. “They come and go like leaves in the wind. Our mission is what’s important. Stay focused on that, and all the rest will take care of itself. You’ve got a good a team behind you, Inquisitor. Let them handle the messy stuff so you can focus on what you do best.”“Thank you, Blackwall.” Evelyn smiled at him and let the title slide. He was the one person she’d given up asking to stop using her title. If he wasn’t calling her Herald or Inquisitor, it was “My Lady” and that was even worse.

“Just make sure you take a breath now and then,” Varric advised. “The demands are only going to grow.”

“Don’ worry -” Sera hiccuped, interrupting her words. “I’ll make sure you stay people.”

“I can’t wait to see what that entails,” Blackwall said under his breath for only Evelyn’s ears. His eyes twinkled when he winked at her and handed her the bottle again.

“I shudder at the thought,” she said, raising the bottle to her lips, but pausing when she saw Cullen walk past. His eyes met hers for a brief moment. He smiled tightly and then continued on his way. Evelyn finished her drink and watched him with a frown. They’d barely spoken since she’d woken up at the camp - they’d both been so busy; so preoccupied with getting everyone safe, her being named Inquisitor, rebuilding the keep.

“Falling and flying but the chains hold him back.” Cole appeared at her side, and Evelyn jumped and cursed. “She’s shadow and light; safety and danger; destruction and salvation.”

“I thought we talked about sneaking up on people, Kid,” Varric said from across the fire as Evelyn’s heart rate slowed to a normal pace.

“Sorry.” Cole tipped his head up so Evelyn could see his cloudy blue eyes under the brim of his floppy hat. “He wants to talk but doesn’t know if things have changed.”

“What?” Evelyn shook her head. “Why would he…”

But Cole was gone and Evelyn was left entirely confused in his wake - as usual.

“I think it almost did him in,” Blackwall said from her side. “Thinking that you were dead in Haven. He stood at the edge of camp for hours after we set up and I’ve never seen a man in full armor move that fast through feet of snow as he did when he saw you.”

“But why...why would that change anything?” She asked.

“Sometimes when we lose something, we realize how much we cared for it,” Varric offered. At his feet, Sera snored in agreement, the drink having gotten to her. Evelyn looked back to the spot where Cullen had disappeared into the shadows. They’d spoken once, the day after they arrived. It’d been short and...awkward, if she thought about it. She and Cullen hadn’t really had a tense conversation since she’d first come to Haven. At the time, she hadn’t thought much about it, but now it worried her.

“Go on.” Blackwall took the bottle back from her. Evelyn didn’t hesitate. She pushed herself up off the log, dropped an affectionate hand on Blackwall’s shoulders and started after Cullen.

“Thanks you two,” She said over her shoulder.

“Anytime, Raven.” Varric’s voice followed her through the night. Even in the dark, the sounds of construction and labor as the work on their keep continued. Several workers greeted her as she passed. Ser Rylan directed her the tower on the battlements across from the rotunda. Evelyn bound up the steps, ducked passed Josie in the Great Hall so she couldn’t ask Evelyn’s opinion on a new rug or draperies, and crept past Solas sleeping in the rotunda he had claimed as his own. The wind cut through her thin jacket as she navigated the piles of timber and stone piled on the walkway. A warm glow shone from underneath the door at the end of the walkway. Evelyn paused before knocking, suddenly timid in light of her conversation with Varric and Blackwall.

“Don’t just stand out there, Jim,” Cullen’s voice growled from behind the door. “If you have something for me, get in here and get it over with.”

Evelyn chuckled, opened the door and stepped inside. She was pleasantly surprised to find the room well-lit and clean. A large desk sat along the back wall and a set of shelves were already lined with books. She waited by the door for a few moments before Cullen looked up, mouth open clearly ready to scold the scout he called Jim. He let out a startled cough instead when he saw Evelyn standing there.

“Sorry to disappoint,” She teased, approaching the desk. “Though, I can’t help but wonder what poor Jim has done to earn your ire.”

“I, uh..” Cullen’s face turned bright red as he stood up and grabbed the back of his neck. “What can I do for you, Inquisitor?”

“Inquisitor? Really, Cullen, I thought we were past all this?” Evelyn walked around the desk until she was standing next to him and leaned her hip against the edge. The only way she knew how to convince him nothing had changed was to act as if nothing had; as if it hadn't been her promise to him that kept her moving through the dark and the snow and the pain; as if she hadn't been hoping it was his face she'd wake up to in that tent; as if he wasn't the one person that felt like a safe place in the chaos that was swirling constantly around her. “You know how I feel about titles.”

“Sorry, I...I thought maybe, you’d...you’d feel differently. You’re the Inquisitor now. Technically I work for you and, well….I wasn’t sure if regulations…” Evelyn couldn’t stop the laugh the bubbled forth. That, at least, got Cullen to look at her. His brow pinched together. “What?”

“It’s adorable really, that you think I’d let regulations dictate my friendships.” She shook her head at Cullen. “Nothing has changed, Cullen. I’m still me; you’re still you; we’re still friends. I’m not going to let an Old God or an Archdemon or a falling mountain or a new title change that. And neither are you.”

“Is that an order, Inquisitor?” The corner of Cullen’s mouth twitched and Evelyn’s eyes inevitably fell to his scar. Maker she wanted to know what that would feel like pressed to her lips. But for now, she forced her eyes up and enjoyed the twinkle in Cullen’s eyes. She pushed herself off the desk and planted her hands on her hips, satisfied that her mission had been successful. In just a few short minutes, everything felt as ease again.

“Yes,” she said. Cullen’s smile widened. She loved it when he smiled.

“If you insist, Inquisitor, I will carry the burden of your friendship,” he teased. Evelyn snorted and punched his arm playfully, earning her an outright laugh. The noise seeped into Evelyn’s heart and made it swell until she almost couldn’t breathe.

“Damn right you will, Commander.” She pushed herself off the desk and started toward the door, needing to leave before she did something stupid like kiss him. She spoke over her shoulder as she opened the door. “Don’t forget who’s in charge here.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, his eyes shining with laughter as she closed the door behind her.

 

\-------

 

She found Dorian in the wine cellar as the sun set two days after she spoke to Cullen in his office. How Josephine had managed to fill the shelves in the few weeks they’d been at Skyhold, Evelyn had no idea. She sighed and leaned against the door jam. The mage still hadn’t spoken to her. It was Bull who had directed her here and Evelyn was trying not to read too much into that. The two of them were in one another's company more frequently since the events at Haven. 

“I was searching for a peace offering,” Dorian said, his back still to her. Relief flooded Evely. She’d missed him. He turned to her, bottle in hand. Producing a corkscrew from somewhere in his robes, he uncorked the bottle, took a swig and handed it to Evely. “You’re favorite, I believe.”

Evelyn took a drink and closed her eyes at the taste of the full-bodied, cherry and oak flavor. It was indeed her favorite.

“I’ve missed you, Dorian.”

“Yes, well, it is possible that ai did not handle the situation to the best of my usually exquisite abilities,” he drawled lazily, though Evelyn heard the genuine emotion beneath the nonchalance. “I was not expecting to find companionship here and I came to find the dearest friend I’ve hadn in a long while. Perhaps ever.”

Evelyn’s heart melted.

“Dor…”

“Nope!” He exclaimed, grabbing the bottle back from her. “I want no more of the emotional confessions going around. Everyone gets so weepy after near death experiences. It’s been terribly dull. I do, however, have a request of you.”

“Oh,” Evelyn grinned. “Do share.”

“Don’t ever do anything like that again.” His eyes pleaded with her and she felt her grin fade. With a sigh, she shook her head.

“You know I can’t do that, Dorian. I’m sorry I scared you but if I had to make the choice again, I’d do the same. I knew you wouldn’t leave of your own accord.” She watched Dorian work his jaw, deciding if he was willing to accept her words. Eventually, he sighed and pulled back his shoulders.

“Very well, just promise me this - next time don’t tell the Oaf he can carry me over his shoulders. I looked like a sack of potatoes. It was entirely undignified.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen finally shares his secret and Evelyn reacts differently than he expected.

   Evelyn’s blood pounded in her ears. Her breath came in quick, shallow gasps as she stumbled through the courtyard. She could hear the whispers; people asking if she was okay but she ignored them. She had to get to her brother; she had to get to Rawlin.

   Cullen wasn’t taking lyrium. Hadn’t been for months. A wave of nausea rolled over her everytime she heard his words in her head.  She couldn’t breathe. Oh Maker, she couldn’t breathe. The wood of the door was rough under her fingers. The knob was cold. When she heard the creak of the hinges, she gave up. Her knees gave up and she dropped to the floor, the pain hardly registering.

   Then her brother’s hands were lifting her up off the ground and her anxiety eased just a bit. He’d understand. He was talking to her, but she couldn’t understand. Another voice brushed her ear - soft; familiar; Orlesian. Then is was gone.

   “What’s wrong, Evie?” Rawlin’s face appeared in front of hers, blue eyes focus and intense. His hands were on her shoulders, firm and steadying. She sucked in a few deep breaths and tried to form words.

   “Cullen…” she gasped. “Lyrium.”

   Understanding bloomed on her brother's face. He wasn’t surprised and that cleared Evelyn’s head a bit.

   “He told you,” Rawlin said. Evelyn shook her head.

   “How...how did you know?”

   “Only a Templar would know...maybe a mage that was looking,” Rawlin said quietly. “Or guess. AT first, I thought he was cutting back to share the limited supply. When I realized it was on purpose, I trusted the man had his reasons.”

   “Rawlin, this will kill him!” Her voice was high and tight. Panic still clutched her heart, squeezing until she was sure it would burst She didn’t know how she’d gotten through the conversation with Cullen; how she’d told him not to take it, that she respected him. Somehow she’d kept a calm facade, despite the terror racing through her until the very end. She’d tried to hide the breaking dam from Cullen, but he’d seen the blinding fear take hold as she’d hurried out of the office. He’d called after her. And she’d left him.

   “Look at me, Evelyn.” Rawling took her face in his hands. “Cullen made his choice himself. It wasn’t forced on him. He’s not him; he’s not father. It’s dangerous, but he could do it. If the right people support him. If you support him.”

   Evelyn shook her head and closed her eyes.

   “You don’t know that,” she whispered. “What if…”

   “Evie, we both know what he’s going through; what he’s going to go through. He needs you to be steady and strong and sure - just like Ma was for Da. You remember?”

   Calm, sweet smiles; gentle reminders; sure touches. Diana Trevelyan was the eye of the storm that was the Trevelyan estate. She stood with her head high, shoulders back, facing whatever came her way with determination. When she was gone for missions as the Raven Knight, she left letters with her husband and instructions with her children on how to care for their father. Her breathing calmed, her thoughts steadied.

   She took a few deep breaths. She was still scared - terrified - but she couldn’t let it consume her. Even as memories of her father slipping away ran through her mind, she steeled herself. She needed to talk to Cullen. She needed him to understand.

 

_____________________________

 

   He didn’t understand. He’d expected resistance from her and then she’d been so calm, so sympathetic. And then, out of nowhere, her face had contorted with terror and she’d ran. In all the months he’d know her, Cullen had never seen Evelyn Trevelyan run from anything. And she’d run from him.

   Cullen groaned and leaned on his desk. His lyrium kit sat open on the desk, the blue singing to him. He should have known better. He should have expected she’d want nothing to do with him when she found out. But he’d allowed himself to hope and that...that had been a mistake.

   The scent of lilac hit his nose before he heard her. She was so quick, silent. She was standing in the doorway, hair disheveled, eyes still wide with panic. He stepped around his desk and started for her. Whatever he’d done wrong, he had to fix it.

   “Evelyn, I…”

   “My father died of lyrium withdrawal,” she blurted out in one breath like if she didn’t, the words wouldn’t come out. Cullen froze halfway across his office, his blood going cold.

   “What?” He managed to get out. “How...I don’t understand.”

   “He was a Templar. The youngest of three boys and sent to training when he was young - younger than you. He wasn’t valuable enough to my grandfather to keep around,” her voice caught uncharacteristically, and Cullen realized she was shaking. He hurried over to her and led her to the couch she’d insisted he put in hers. So she could hide from visiting nobles. She let him set her down, and then he removed his mantle and draped it over her shoulders. Warmth swirled in his chest when she pulled it tight around her; pressed the pauldrons to her nose and took a deep breath. She’d done that when she’d woke up after Haven. Almost like she was breathing him in. Maker, he hoped that’s what it was; that she loved his scent as much as he loved hers. But now was not the time; it was never the time to think of such things. With a deep breath, pushed those thoughts away, and waited for her to continue.

   “He was never meant to be my grandfather’s heir, so my father was left to live his own life. That’s how he married my mother. My grandfather would never have allowed it.” She took a deep breath and continued. “But then my uncles were killed, and father was brought home to learn to run the estate, with my mother at his side. Being a noble and being well known for our piousness, the Chantry would send a regular supply of lyrium.

   “They never talked about it much, but I think it was hell for them. My grandfather was cruel and controlling. He hated my mother, but she’d already had Rusland and Killian - two boys for the Trevelyan legacy. So he let her stay, but Killian said the three of them were always fighting. And when other or father did something grandfather didn’t like - any small thing - he’d cut off my father’s lyrium supply.”

   Cullen’s blood, ice just moments ago, boiled now. Rage ran through him like fire. His need to protect Evelyn overwhelmed him until the reached out and pulled her to his side.

   “I don’t remember much before Killian’s magic manifested. I don’t know if it hadn’t been there, or I just hadn’t noticed it before, but things got really bad then. Ruslan and Killian had been close, inseparable, but when Killian left Ruslan never spoke of him again. Not once. Never wrote to him. Nothing. He changed then; became mean, brash. My grandfather’s influence. He got Arden too - took over his training to make him a “proper” Trevelyan man. He would have gotten Lincoln and Rawlin too if my mother hadn’t promised then to the Templars. Grandfather cut off the lyrium for two months that time. Father was never the same after that.”

   Cullen had no words. He was nauseous. He wanted to comfort her, but he could not find the words, so he just clung to Evelyn and hoped that holding her conveyed all that he wanted to say.

   “When my mother died, the damage that had already been done...my father just...broke. Completely. It took him a year to die. By the end...he didn’t even know me.”

   She shuddered in his arms and Cullen drew a shaking breath. He hated that he’d upset her; hated what his choice meant. There was no way she’d want to be around him if his withdraw reminded her of that life. He could hardly believe the woman in his arms came out of a home like that.

   It all made more sense to him now. The things she did, how she could push emotions aside; how she could be cold and calculating when her nature was warm and caring; how she could wear the mask of noble indifference so well and then be so genuine. Her home had been like a war zone; The Game enacted even in a place that should have been safe. She never dared show emotions or weakness.

   “Evelyn, I’m sorry,” he began. “If I had known…”

   “It would change nothing,” She sat upright and looked at him, eyes fierce, jaw set. “It shouldn’t change anything. I meant what I said. I respect what you’re doing. I just...I got scared….for you.”

   The last words came out in a whisper and pierced his heart. He tried to dampen the hope that spread through him; tried to tell himself he was reading this wrong, but he couldn’t. The way she’d smelled his mantle, the way she clung to him when he held her, her panic at the thought of losing him.

   “Whatever you need, Cullen, whenever you need it. I’m here,” she said. “There were some things that helped my father.”

   Cullen shook his head.

   “I don’t want you to worry about me,” he said. “You have enough too much on your shoulders as it is.”

   “Bullshit,” Evelyn scoffed. She held Cullen’s gaze for several moments. He could get lost in those eyes - cerulean sprinkled with gold. They were so bright, shining in the midst of the darkness that always surrounded her. Like the moon on a dark night. She soothed him; cooled his heat. When she spoke again, her voice was thick with emotion. “The Inquisition can have many things from me, but it can’t have this.”

   Cullen sat in stunned silence as Evelyn rose and removed his mantle. Without a word, she hooked it back on his shoulders, kissed him gently on the cheek - her lips like a cool breeze on his skin - and then slipped out of his office into the afternoon sun.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First kisses, first dragon hunts and first touches of smut. Emotions are bubbling to the surface and all the questions and insecurities and fears that come with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay.  
> Andromeda came out (and I lurves it).  
> But, there is still a lot more to come for Evelyn and Cullen so please continue to stick with me, friends!

Evelyn hated how Varric described a first kiss in his books - all heat and lightening and swimming heads and weak knees. What she hated even more was that it was all true - the tingling in her limbs, the heat of his lips against hers, the way her spine tingled when he gripped the back of her head and pulled her closer. A sigh escaped her and she bent herself into Cullen’s body, sure that he was going to set her on fire.

The way he’d growled at Jim and then turned back, pushed her against the side of the battlement. All hurry and desperation. She never wanted it to to stop. It had been ages...ages since she’d been with anyone and if she let herself go, she’d drag Cullen back to bed with her right now. She almost sighed with relief when he began to pull away.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed, gold eyes hazy as he looked at her. “That was...um....really nice.”

“That was exactly what I wanted,” she grinned at him, hoping to ease his uncertainty. His eyebrows shot up and a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, making Evelyn’s heart pound in her chest. Andraste’s tits, she was in trouble if all it took was half a smirk for her to melt for him.

“Oh,” he teased, eyes twinkling. “Good.”

This kiss was slower, not near so desperate. It was full of hope and promise and the slow warmth of a spring morning. He was like the sun rising, pushing away all the lingering cold and darkness; bringing things to life you would never guess were there in the black of night. He warmed her soul, made her feel alive and free. She pulled away this time, before she lost herself in him, but he didn’t let go of her, instead leaning his forehead against hers.

“Do you think they’ll care if we miss the War Council meeting?” He asked. Evelyn chuckled.

“They’ll send out a search party,” she lamented. “Should we...do you want to go together?”

Cullen straightened then, hesitation seeping back into his eyes. Looking around, he seemed to finally realize they were standing on the battlements in the evening sun, the guards within sight very clearly trying to look in their Commander’s direction.

“I suppose if we wanted to keep this between us we should not have made out on the battlements,” he groaned and Evelyn just laughed.

“Leliana will know before we even get to the meeting,” she said. Taking in the blush on Cullen’s face and the way he looked all around them trying to determine who had seen, worry began to creep in. “Does it bother you? The idea of people knowing?”

“What?” His gaze snapped back to her, eyes wide. “Maker, no. I’m more worried about you. You’re the Inquisitor. I’m sure Josie has been working on marriage alliances and then there are all the nobles and what they think…”

Evelyn stopped him with a quick kiss. When she pulled away, Cullen let out a long, relaxing breath.

“Right,” he said. “You don’t care and Josie can shove those marriage proposals up her arse.”

Another laugh burst from Evelyn.

“You know me so well, Commander,” she teased, winning herself a grin from him. Evelyn tilted her head in the general direction of the keep and slipped her arm into his. “Come on, we can swing by your office and pick up your paperwork before we head over. We’re leaving for Crestwood at the arse-crack of dawn and I’d like to spend as much time with you as I can. Even if it’s just walking to the meeting.”

“Lead the way then, Inquisitor,” he said, dropping his voice just a little at her title, sending a shiver down Evelyn’s body. She tried to hide it - she wasn’t quite ready to reveal all those kinds of urges quite yet - but Cullen caught it and grinned smugly. It only made her shiver more. Maker help her, she was going to be in trouble.

 

________________

 

_C -_

_I miss you. Crestwood is just as terrible as we predicted. The area is crawling with undead rising from the lake; Venatori and bandits are everywhere; and there are spiders - giant, fucking spiders. I hate spiders. More than bears. More than anything._

_There’s another high dragon here. When did so many of these things show up? It’s odd, don’t you think? We’re preparing to go after it - the thing has been eating livestock and the farmers have had to leave their lands. They can’t make a living and we’re in a position to help. Also, Bull and I really want to kill it. I can just see your ears turning red at the thought. You’re adorable. Don’t worry, we’ll be safe._

_We haven’t been able to locate Hawke and his contact yet. We’ll take a few days upon our return to rest and then return to the area. Hopefully, we’ll have more answers then._

_Leliana’s keep is ready - she can start moving her scouts in whenever she wants._

_I miss you._

_By the time you get this, we’ll be about two days away._

_Yours -_

_E._

Cullen knew he was red to the tips of his ears by the time Leliana was finished ready Evelyn’s letter in the War Room. The Nightengale’s eyes twinkled with mischief and Josephine covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. Finally, he decided he was tired of it.

“So?” He demanded. “She misses me and I quite like that. I don’t know what you’re laughing about.”

“Oh, Commander, we’re sorry!” The Ambassador exclaimed. “it’s not that, it’s…”

  
“Your ears turned red the exact moment she said they would,” Leliana finished for her friend, who was in a fit of laughter once again. Cullen couldn’t remember Josephine ever laughing like that. Cullen bristled.

“She’s fighting a dragon!” He exclaimed. “How are you not concerned?”

“Evelyn is quite capable on the field of battle, Commander. And she’s with Cassandra and Bull. They will be fine. It’s just one dragon.” Leliana’s words did nothing to quell Cullen’s worry.

 --------

Two days later, Evelyn and her party rolled through the gates just after sundown, the Inquisitor astride an enormous dragon skull. She beamed up at him from where he stood on the walkway.

“Cullen!” She shouted, clearly not caring if all of Skyhold heard her use his first name. “We killed a fucking dragon!”

Bull gave a cry from behind her and the gathering crowd joined in. He chuckled when Evelyn tipped her head back and joined the rest, whooping and cawing at the top of her voice. When the shouting died down, Cullen heard Vivienne's voice echo.

“Really, darling, you shouldn’t use such language. It makes you look like a barbarian.”

“Missed you too, Viv!” Evelyn said, sliding off the skull. She winked at him and Cullen laughed before turning back to his office. He was going to change and join the Inner Circle at the Herald’s Rest for the dragon slaying celebration. Josephine had tried to pull something more formal together, but Evelyn had written a quick response from the road, overruling that plan in favor of the more casual celebration at the tavern.

He had every intention of pulling Evelyn away from the celebration for alone time later, so he opted to leave his armor on it’s stand. Taking care to smooth back his curls, he chose a tunic of burgundy linen (that Dorian had intricately folded and placed in his chest, insisting that Cullen would need it at some point) and black leathers to go with his nice, black boots. Looking at himself in the mirror, he shook his head. It was foolish, childish even, but he wanted to look nice for the Inquisitor. The night after their first kiss, he changed after their meeting into trousers and a shirt before meeting Evelyn in her rooms. She’d looked at him with what he could only describe as hunger. He wanted to see that look in her eyes again. So he fussed over his clothes and his hair.

By the time he finished the last of his paperwork work, cleaned off his desk and dismissed Jim for the evening, the revelry was well under way. He could hear it all the way across the courtyard. The tavern was crowded and he had to stop just inside the door to take in the scene. Among the various recruits, scouts and a few visiting dignitaries who had lowered themselves to the drudgery of the tavern, the entire Inner Circle had gathered to celebrate the dragon slaying. Vivienne, Dorian and Josephine sat at a table, lively discussing something, Dorian’s hands waved about dramatically. Blackwall, Sera and Varric were running a game of Wicked Grace in the back. Cassandra sat with Rawlin and Adalyn, a small smile on her face. The only two Cullen didn’t see were Leliana and Bull. Or Evelyn.

“You look decidedly dashing this evening, Commander.” Leliana appeared in front of him, a knowing smile on her lips. Cullen felt himself begin to blush. 

“As do you, Sister NIghtingale,” Cullen responded, refusing to give her the satisfaction of flustering him. The spymaster had left her red hair uncovered and opted for a black silk blouse, the deep neckline revealing smooth, alabaster skin, and matching trousers. Her cheeks were slightly flushed with drink and her eyes twinkled with mirth. “I was hoping to speak to the Inquisitor.”

“I’m sure you were,” Leliana teased. She turned and pointed to the bar. “She’s celebrating with Bull - Qunari style.”

Cullen glanced down the bar and caught sight of the pair, giant mugs in hand, talking excitedly. He wasn't sure what celebrating Qunari-style meant but he was about to find out. Cullen nodded his thanks to Leliana and stepped around her, making his way through the through the throng of people. Evelyn’s voice rang through the air as Cullen managed to slip up to the bar next to her. Instead of interrupting, he stood at her back and listened to her and Bull talk.

“Ah, that gurgle just before it spit fire,” Bull rumbled. Evelyn nodded her head in agreement and raised the large tankard in her hand.

“To killing dragons!” She exclaimed, her words slurred a bit. “To the Iron Bull!”

“And his kick ass Inquisitor!” Bull answered. Together, the two of them raised their glasses and took a drink. Moments later, Evelyn was sputtering and coughing while Bull laughed. “You’re getting better at that, Boss!”

From where he stood Cullen could see Evelyn beam at the Qunari and he could not help but chuckled at her expression. Evelyn spun on her stool, eyes widening when she saw him.

“Cullen!” She cried. Then she noticed his clothes. Her eyes ran down his body, to his feet and back up to his face again. When her blue eyes met his, they were dark with desire. Just like he’d wanted. When she spoke again, her voice was low and rough. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“Only for you,” he said just loud enough for her to hear and to his delight, a light blush crept up her face. Evelyn bit her lip and reached out to run a finger down the front of his shirt. Her smile broadened when Cullen shivered at her touch.

“No armor,” Evelyn commented. Cullen caught her hand in his, running his thumb gently over her knuckles.

“Also for you.”

“If you two want to keep this a secret, I’d suggest taking this somewhere else.” Bull caught Cullen’s eye over the top of Evelyn’s head. “Unless you’re okay with the Boss taking you here and now.”

Cullen looked back at Evelyn, who showed no signs of letting him go. At this moment, he didn’t mind if everyone knew, but he didn’t know how she’d feel about it. So he squeezed her hand and took a step back, grinning when Evelyn actually pouted. She must be well and truly drunk.

“I supposed you should linger a bit,” she said. “Don’t leave without me?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Cullen forced himself to slip away from her.

“Oi, Commander Fancy Pants!” Sera shouted at him from the Wicked Grace table. “Deal you in, yeah?”

Cullen shook his head and joined Cassandra, Rawlin and Adalyn instead. Someone brought him a Fereldan ale but when talk turned to the Templar-Mage war and the role of the Chantry, Cullen got up. He spent enough time discussing such matters, tonight he had no desire to do so. He found Dorian and Leliana at a table.

“And you didn’t think you’d ever need that shirt,” Dorian ran his eyes over Cullen. “Making yourself easily accessible this evening, are we?”

Cullen had drank enough of his ale to take the insinuation in stride. It appeared as if everyone knew about his budding relationships anyway.

“I may be accommodating a certain request,” Cullen managed to play along. Dorian’s eyebrow shot up.

“Again with the sass, Commander. I’m not sure what to do with all these new things we’re seeing out of you,” Dorian lamented. Next to him, Leliana smiled.

“We all tend to grow more confident when we find ourselves in love, no?” Nightengale said, eyes twinkling, watching for Cullen’s reaction.

Love.

The word stuck in his throat. He hadn’t allowed himself to think it; hadn’t dared to let himself hope. As long as he kept the possibility buried deep, he couldn’t be disappointed when Evelyn inevitably came to her senses. there must be a day coming when she realized he wasn’t right for her.

“Oh Cullen, you are absolutely delicious when you blush,” Dorian cooed. Cullen was struggling for a response, fending off his rising panic at Leliana’s word and the embarrassment at Dorian’s, when he caught the scent of lilac floating in the air. Moments later a hand trailed lightly across his back. But when he turned to look, she was already ducking out the door. Cullen cleared his throat and turned back to Leliana and Dorian to excuse himself only to find them both grinning at him. He looked at their toothy smiles and knowing looks and just snorted, waived them off and followed Evelyn. Leliana and Dorian’s laughter followed him out the door.

Out in the courtyard the cold air bit through his clothes. He stopped for a moment, catching his breath and searching for the Inquisitor. The moonlight caught her black hair as she made her way up the stairs by the armory. He watched as she climbed; the way her body moved - smooth and quick - like each step was part of a dance. Then she turned and looked toward the tavern, grinning when she saw him.

When she looked at him like that - when she caught sight of him and her face lit up - Cullen felt as though he could fly. Evelyn turned away and started up the stairs and Cullen followed, his heart racing. Leliana’s words echoed in his mind as he followed Evelyn up to his office. Despite all of his efforts to keep his feelings under control, his attempts to protect himself from eventual heartache, he knew the spymaster was right. He loved Evelyn. He loved her strength, her determination, her compassion. He loved her ability to see the best in people despite everything she’d been through. He loved her ability to bring people together and her ability to value the differences in all of them.

His heart in his throat, he opened the door to his office, but when he stepped inside she was nowhere to be seen. Cullen froze, a smile on his lips. Evelyn liked to sneak up on people. He slowed his breathing, listening for any whisper from the talented rouge, but it was the faint scent of lilac that alerted him once again.

Then her hands were sliding around his waist and she was pressing herself against his back. Cullen shivered at the contact. It was the first time they’d been so close; the first time they were alone without either one of them being in their armor.

“Hey,” Evelyn said against his back, her breath warm through the linen of his tunic. She fit against him perfectly, folding herself around the contours of his body. Still smiling, Cullen turned around in her embrace.

“Hi,” he breathed, barely getting the words out as he met her eyes. Cerulean pools shining up at him, smiling lips so close to his he could feel her breath. She fit in his arms so perfectly, like the Maker meant for them to fit together. It was such a dangerous thought - far too hopeful - but just as his thoughts were spiraling down into self doubt, Evelyn tipped her head up and caught his lips with hers.

The electricity of her touch ran down his spine. He savored the taste of her lips, the smell of her skin. Instinctively, he pulled her closer, his heart sinking a little when she pulled her lips away. Cullen opened his eyes again to meet her gaze.

“I never scare you,” she said with a teasing pout. “How do you always know?”

Cullen smiled and gently pulled her dark hair out of its braid. Evelyn closed her eyes and tipped her head back into his touch, exposing the soft skin of her neck. She gasped when Cullen brushed his lips against her pulse and arched into him. Her breasts pressed against his chest, sending a jolt of want down to his length.

“Your scent,” he said against her neck. “You always smell of lilac.”

Evelyn froze in his hands.

“Well, shit,” she said. Cullen pulled away and watched irritation flash over her face. “I should have known better than using that soap. I can’t have a scent; I can’t have something that will give me away when I’m hiding. I’ll have to ask Josie…”

Chuckling, Cullen pressed his thumb against her lips cutting her off and Evelyn looked up at him apologetically. Then she smirked, opened her lips and sucked his thumb into her mouth, mischief shining in her eyes. Cullen groaned and surged forward, claiming Evelyn’s mouth.

She moaned at the move, again arching into him. Cullen slid his hand into her hair, grasping her neck possessively, and the tough, unrelenting Evelyn Trevelyan melted into him. He knew she was strong enough to resist, would hold her own if she wanted, yet she allowed him to push her back against the closed door. The knowledge made him heady and he slid his hands down her body, eliciting another moan. When his hands ran over her cheeks, he swept his tongue along her lower lip, begging access, and she opened up for him. Cullen lost himself in her as she moaned as gasped and clung to him as though she never wanted to let go.

She was warm and willing  against him, easily hooking her legs around his waist when he hoisted her into the air. Cullen pulled his lips from hers and ran them across her jaw and down her neck again, reeling in the gasps and shudders ensuing from her.

Then her hands pulled at his shirt, slipping under the hem. The feeling of her cool, calloused fingers against his burning skin made him shiver and drop his head back. Evenly was on him in an instant, hot lips on his neck, up his jaw, until she caught his earlobe with her teeth.

“Evelyn,” he growled in a warning. His control was cracking and if they continued it would crumble. They had not spoken about this yet. Doubts crept back into his mind. He didn’t know what she wanted. He didn’t know if he could go this far if she would only reject him further. Now, he could still pick up the pieces of himself if she walked away. He wasn’t sure how much longer that would apply. “Evelyn, wait.”

She stiffened in his arms and when Cullen looked at her, the blue eyes he so adored were wide and clear. All signs of lust and desire were gone. His heart dropped into the pit of his stomach.

“Cullen,” she gasped. “I...I’m sorry, I can’t.”

There it was. The moment he’d been waiting for. Cullen suddenly felt dizzy as he carefully lowered her to the ground, stepped away and turned from her. He shouldn’t feel so devastated; he’d known it would come. He was an ex-Templar with a lyrium addiction, going through a withdraw that had killed her father; he was the son of a farmer; he had nothing outside of the Inquisition; was nothing. Evelyn was everything - a noble, the Raven Knight, a hero, the Herald of Andraste, the Inquisitor. He drew in a deep, shaky breath trying to figure out how he was going to navigate this latest heart-wrenching event.

And then her hands were on him, turning him around. Cullen steeled himself for an explanation. Instead, Evelyn’s battle-hardened hands gently grasped his face. The look in her eyes was unreadable.

“Oh sweetheart, it isn’t you,” she whispered. “I want to. Maker help me, I’ve never wanted anything so bad. I’m just...not ready.”

Cullen was too confused to say anything to several long moments.

“I don’t…”he started. “You’re not...am I your first?”

Evelyn just arched her eyebrow and smiled at him like he was a fool. He knew she’d been with others; several, if the overheard jokes between her and Bull were any indication. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and shook his head,trying to clear his thoughts. Evelyn’s hands never left his face.

“I don’t understand,” he finally said pathetically. Evelyn bit her lip and he would have worried except the way she looked at him. He’d only caught glimpses of it before; flashes of something so deep and strong it took his breath away. But she’d always looked away. Until now. She held his gaze steadily, with a look that allowed hope to take root in his heart once again.

“It has been a long time since I...cared,” she said slowly. “I’ve had trysts, affairs, nights of dancing and wine, but I didn’t feel anything. And the last time I cared, I was wrong.”

“Do you...do you think you’re wrong now?” He dared to asked. Evelyn pulled his face down and brushed her lips against his.

“Not even a little,” she said against his lips. “You are incredible. I want to be with you, Cullen. I do. But what I feel for you - how _much_ I feel it….scares me a little. I just need some time to find my courage.”

Cullen gently pulled her hands away from his face so he could see her better. His heart pounded so loudly he was sure she could hear it. He studied her for several moments, looking for any indication of insincerity or uncertainty - not that he didn’t believe her, but this all seemed too good to be true; too good to be happening to him. But Evelyn’s eyes were clear and sure, her gaze meeting his with the same intensity as it had earlier. What he saw there made it difficult to breathe. What he saw in her eyes was more than he dared hope for; more than he dared put a name to right now.

Somehow, he found his voice.

“It must be serious if Evelyn Trevelyan is having trouble finding her courage,” he said, voice rough with emotion. Evelyn’s expression remained sincere and solemn.

“Very serious,” she spoke in almost a whisper. “I am very serious about this.”

A sudden, blissful peace settled over Cullen. He pulled her hands up to his lips and kissed each knuckle. She wasn’t saying no; she wanted him; she was serious about him - about them. He could wait. He’d wait as long as she needed.

“If you’re ready…” he began, but Evelyn cut him off.

“When,” she said and Cullen smiled.

“When you are ready, I am here. I will wait for as long as you need.”

Evelyn raised up on her toes and kissed him again, long and sweet.

“Good night, Cullen.” She gave him one more quick kiss and then slipped out of his arms and into the night. In an odd sort of haze, the doubt and panic entirely gone, Cullen readied for bed. That night, for the first time in ages, he slept peacefully.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few moments between the chaos, complete with a food rub.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have this cannon about Cullen calling her "Darlin'" and I can't get it out of my head. So, here ya go.

Thankfully, it was not as difficult to maintain some distance from Cullen over the next several weeks as Evelyn had feared. She and her companions traveled almost constantly - the Hinterlands, Crestwood, the Storm Coast. Problems and rifts seemed to pop up every time she left an area. They were in Skyhold for a quick resupply before heading back to the Storm Coast to clear out some Red Templars.

The sun beat down on her as she sat next to Bull and Dorian on the bleachers outside the training ring. A slight breeze cooled the sweat on her skin. Evelyn bit her lip, eyes locked on a shirtless Cullen sparring with Rylen inside the ring. His muscles rippled with every movement, his skin shining with sweat. Maker take her, it was taking almost all of her willpower to not get up and drag him back to her room to have her way with him. To run her hands over the ridges of muscles on his stomach; to dig her fingers into his arms as he drove into her her over and over and over…

“You all right there, Boss?” Bull winked at her.

“No,” Evelyn whined. Then Rylan made a move on Cullen, almost tripping the Commander up. Cullen growled, low and rough and Evelyn barely bit back a whimper. “Fuck. Do you think it’s possible to come just from someone’s voice?”

“Why don’t you just sleep with him already so we don’t have to hear you whine about it all the time?” Dorian asked. He sat on the bench lower than Evelyn and Bull, directly in front of the Qunari. Evelyn didn’t miss how the mage leaned back against the warrior’s leg; or how, every few minutes, the warrior’s fingers ran gently across the mage’s back eliciting a shiver from the Tevinter man.

“Because,” Evelyn started, the stopped. She wasn’t sure how to explain it to them. Cullen had understood, but these two? They were definitely the do first, think later type. As usually, Bull jumped into to pull her thoughts out of her head and put them into words.

“Because, Curly is different than the others,” he rumbled and winked at her. “She’s...invested so she’s proceeding carefully. Not everyone fucks first and then sorts out their feelings.”

Dorian just snorted, which was good because Cullen growled again and this time Evelyn was not able to hold back the whimper. The mage didn’t hear, but Bull did. He just winked at her before Evelyn gave up and headed inside to clean up for the War Council meeting.

 

__________

“We can’t sit idle while we wait for the ball,” Evelyn said. The council had gone on for several hours. With the Inquisitor gone so much, they had weeks worth of business to fit into just a few days. Cullen was already tired from his sparring session with Rylen that morning, a headache was blooming at the base of his skull and they still had an entire afternoon of work remaining.

They were going over initial reports from Evelyn’s first trip to what they were calling the Forbidden Oasis. Who chose these names, Cullen didn’t know, but the reports were enough to make him shudder - Venatori, a magical vault full of demons, poisonous spiders. Evelyn was not shy about how she felt about the area, especially after agonizing over using the Ocularum to find the shards.

The weariness was clear in the slump of Evelyn’s’ shoulders and crease between her brows. They had just over a month before they must subject themselves to the Orleasian politics. Immediately after, Evelyn would be heading west again to meet Marian Hawke in the Western Approach. Cullen wished he could whisk her away from it all - if even just for a few days - but it knew it wasn’t going to happen for at least two months.

As soon as an opportunity presented itself, though…

“It will be a tight timeline,” he said, forcing himself to focus on the matters at hand. “You’ll need to be prepared for just a day or two of rest before we have to leave for the Winter Palace if you wish to go to the Storm Coast.”

“Which means we’ll have to move hastily plans for wardrobe,” Josephine interjected. Cullen could hear the growing panic in the Ambassador’s voice. “Inquisitor, I’m not sure we’ll be able to get a gown done without you here.”

“We’re going to thwart an assassination attempt, Josie, not make a fashion statement.” Evelyn’s words were unusually sharp - likely due to exhaustion - and Josephine flinched.

“It is vital that we show the strength to withstand The Game, Inquisitor,” Leliana chimed in. “It would be unwise to arrive in armor.”

“I am not suggesting that,” Evelyn said, meeting the Spymaster’s gaze with cool sharpness. Cullen fought to keep his face stern. He loved watching her stand toe to toe with Leliana and Josephine. “I am suggesting that we make a statement about who we are. We will go to the ball and we will show that we know The Game, that we can play it but that we are above it. We show that we will not cater to such inconsequential things when the world is coming to an end.”

Leliana’s eyebrow shot up.

“And how do we do that, Inquisitor?” She asked, not bothering to hide her skepticism.

“We all wear the same thing,” Evelyn said. “A uniform. Simple, elegant, powerful. No masks.”

Cullen didn’t bother to hide his smile. He didn’t know much about The Game, but he knew enough to know that this was a brilliant move. Leliana and Josephine stared at Evelyn for several moments, clearly contemplating the proposal. Finally, Josephine began to nod slowly.

“It’s unconventional,” she said. “Daring. But it could work.”

“We are unconventional and daring. It is, I believe, one of our best assets.” Evelyn caught his eye and he smiled again. “It is the conventional institutions of Thedas that got us into this mess to begin with - some of it, at least. If we hope to change the things, if we hope to leave the world a better place, then we must be different. We must rise above without arrogance, without alienating those we fight to protect, including Orlais and the Empress. If we do this, if we stand together in this matter, that is the statement we make.”

Josephine nodded eagerly, her smile growing.

“It’s bold. Insightful. I like it,” she said. Then she frowned a bit. “Though, I was looking forward to designing you a gown.”

“I’m sure another opportunity will present itself, Josie. And when it does, you may design my gown. You may design ten if you like” Evelyn smiled and winked at the Ambassador. Josephine practically glowed and Cullen felt an odd swelling of pride for Evelyn. She was so smart; so beautiful and strong and kind. He suddenly wanted to sweep her up in his arms and kiss her until she was breathless.

“I’m impressed with your play, Inquisitor,” Leliana finally said. Evelyn grinned at the spymaster.

“I’m a Free Marcher, Leli, not a barbarian. Simply because I choose not to play doesn’t mean I don’t know how.”

“And play well, it would seem.”

“They’ll never know what hit ‘em, Sister Nightengale.” Evelyn winked at Leliana and the woman smiled in the way she only did with Evelyn. It was the open, genuine smile Cullen remembered from the days when the spymaster traveled with the Warden - before she’d emerged herself so fully into the world of shadows. He was glad Evelyn as able to bring that out in Leliana. “Now that we’ve gone over all that, let’s take a break for lunch and sanity. Leliana, I know you have a meeting with Harding. Call us back when you’re ready for us?”

“As you wish, Inquisitor.”

The four of them fell into silence as they gathered their papers and prepared to head to lunch. Leliana had swept out of the room when Evelyn appeared at his side.

“Join me for lunch in my rooms?” She asked, looking up at him with big blue eyes. Cullen’s heart pounded and it was all he could do not to kiss her, Josephine’s presence be damned. They’d barely had any time alone since that night after the dragon slaying celebration - quick stolen kisses in dark corners; barely contained making out in his office - and now she was right next to him, smelling of lilac and asking him up to her room.

“I would like that,” he said, his voice lower than he intended. The effect, though was well worth it, as desire flashed through Evelyn’s eyes.

“Great,” she whispered, her own voice rough. “I’ll meet you up there? I need to talk to Solas quickly.”

Not trusting his voice, Cullen just nodded. Evelyn grinned and then hurried out of the room right behind the Ambassador. And with no one around to see, Cullen allowed his eyes to settle on the Inquisitor’s backside as she sauntered down the hallway.

_______________

 

A while later, Cullen watched Evelyn stretch out on her back on the floor of her room, her eyes closed. Paper and reports and Evelyn’s clothes were spread all over the room. A half-packed bag lay on the bed. Evelyn had pulled her hair out of it’s updo and let it fall over her shoulder. She’d pulled her boots and socks off and Cullen was surprised to see her toenails painted a bright red. He’d seen the fashion on Vivienne and Josephine before in their fancy, strappy shoes and assumed it was some sort of nobel trend. It wasn’t anything he had expected to see on Evelyn. Even after almost a year of knowing her, she still surprised him.

He liked seeing her like this, relaxed and stretched out. They’d made it through lunch and the following hour or so without tearing one another’s clothes off, but she was far too tempting laying like that. Feeling bold, he got up from where he sat on the couch and joined her on the floor. He sat quietly at her feet, pulled off his gloves and picked up her leg at the ankle. Evelyn opened one eye and watched him but didn’t say anything. Cullen gripped her foot and then pressed his thumb down, running it up the arch.

Evelyn closed her eye and let out a long, low moan. Cullen swallowed hard, pushing down the desire that ran up his spine at the moan. This was for her. He repeated the motion, eliciting another moan.

“Maker, Cullen, where did you learn to do that?”

“Templars spend hours sitting around in our quarters. You learn a few things.” He chuckled when he rubbed her arch again and Evelyn moaned for the third time. Unable to stay away at her feet any longer, Cullen set her leg down and leaned over her until his eyes were level with hers. “Didn't your brothers tell you anything about Templar life?”

“Of course they did,” Evelyn grinned at him, eyes sparkling with mischief. He loved it when she looked at him like that. “Rawlin wrote to me every day for years.”

“Wait, what about all those questions you asked when we first met?” Cullen asked, though he was beginning to understand. “You acted like you knew nothing. And the chastity vows…”

“Oh, I totally lied,” Evelyn cut him off, eyes shining. “I just wanted to know what kind of Chantry Boy you were.”

“What kind of Chantry Boy I was?” He asked. Evelyn bit her lip for a moment before answering.

“I wanted to know if you’d play with me.”

Cullen had never heard her voice go so high; so breathy. Underneath him, Evelyn never took her eyes off his as he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. She arched into him, sliding one hand into his hair and the other up his spine. Cullen shivered at her touch and ran his tongue across her bottom lip. Evelyn opened to him willingly and Cullen felt himself go a little dizzy as he deepened the kiss.

Maker, he could not get enough of this woman. He shifted his weight so he could slide an arm under her back. Evelyn moaned and turned into him.

“You two are adorable.”

Cullen and Evelyn sprang apart at Bull’s voice. Cullen rolled over onto his back to see Bull leaning against the wall at the top of the stairs, arms crossed, eyes twinkling. He would never understand how that giant of a man moved so quietly.

“Fuck, Bull!” Evelyn propped herself up on her elbows. “What in the Void?”

“Sorry, Boss,” he chuckled. “Red needs you back in the war room.”

Evelyn dropped back to the floor. The Iron Bull winked at Cullen and then made his way back down the stairs. Next to him, Evelyn sighed and rolled to face him with a grimace.

“Should we go?” She asked. Cullen gave her a quick kiss, got to his feet and offered his hand. When Evelyn accepted it, he pulled her to her feet.

“I don’t think we have a choice, darlin’.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winter Palace

Evelyn had warned Cullen about being at the Winter Palace. She knew how he felt about The Game and she’d been worried he wouldn’t like seeing her play it. But he’d watched her with pride all night. Her ability to change personas had always fascinated him, if it was a bit disconcerting. The only person Cullen had ever seen do better was Leliana and even then, Evelyn gave the spymaster a run for her money. Tonight, she’d been spectacular.

How anyone could navigate Orlesian politics so flawlessly while hunting an assassin and fighting Venatori on the side, Cullen didn’t know. Yet by the time Evelyn revealed the plot to kill Celene, every noble at the palace was entirely and utterly endeared by the Inquisitor.

The madness was now over, the Orlesians using the near assassination of their Empress and the end of the civil war as an excuse to celebrate even more lavishly. Cullen stood guard at the door to a secluded room, just off the library. Behind him, Evelyn was talking to Celene, Gaspard and Brialla. Dorian sauntered down the hallway toward him.

“Remarkable, isn’t it?” Dorian leaned against the wall next to Cullen. “She detests The Game, yet plays it so well she made my head spin. One night in Orlais and she’s ended a war, stopped an assassination, created a ruling council of three after hundreds of years of monarchy and has them all wound so tightly around her finger they won’t be able to look at one another wrong without her knowing. I knew she was good, but I had no idea she was this good.”

Cullen snorted and glanced over his shoulder. Evelyn was still talking, all pretense gone. The new ruling council of Orlais had taken their masks off at her request. Evelyn’s expression was stern and to Cullen’s delight, the other three in the room looked truly admonished.

“Let me be entirely clear,” Evelyn said, her voice raising with clear irritation. “I am done playing your games. Continue to law Orlais as you like - I frankly don’t give a fuck. I have no interest in taking over your empire. But when you deal with the Inquisition, The Game will be set aside. The survival of Thedas comes before all else. And if any of you so much as think of making a move against me - or one another - I will know and I will ruin you. We already have people everywhere and I will hold onto the evidence and your confessions from this evening. Do not make me use them, we have far more important things to concern ourselves with than power plays.”

Cullen and Dorian exchanged a look, barely containing their laughter as Celene, Gaspard and Brialla all nodded their agreement.

“I am truly sorry for the loss of the Duchess.” Evelyn’s tone shifted. It was softer now, genuine. “I know what it is like to lose a sibling and I regret that I took yours, Gaspard.”

“I do not understand her folly,” the Duke said quietly and Cullen thought her heard the man’s voice break. He glanced over his shoulder again to see Gaspard’s head hanging. Celene reached out and gently touched the man’s shoulder. The same man trying to take her throne only hours ago. Yet, here they were, genuine and cooperative. Evelyn had done that. Cullen’s chest swelled with a now familiar pride in his Inquisitor. “My heart is heavy, but I understand your decision, Inquisitor.”

“Still, you have my regrets. Taking life is not something I enjoy. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other matters to attend.” Evelyn bowed respectfully to the new rulers of Orlais and exited the room, motioning for Cullen to follow her. Dorian fell into step as well.

“I need you to find Leliana and make sure those confessions are recorded. Multiple copies. And then please find Sera and check on her progress with the staff. We may not be as entrenched here as I implied, but we need to be. Soon.”

“Of course, Inquisitor,” Cullen said, hating that he had to be so formal with her here. Evelyn looked exhausted. He wanted to whisk her away and help her relax. Instead, he peeled himself away and went to follow his orders. Leliana was easy enough to find and she was already well into Evelyn’s requests. Sera was more difficult to find and more difficult to understand. She spent more time complaining about her uniform than actually giving him a report. Eventually, Cullen gathering enough to confirm Sera was effectively establishing her contacts. Shaking his head, he left Sera muttering about breeches and bees and nobles so he could track down Evelyn again.

Cullen froze for a moment when Morrigan passed him. She hadn’t been with the Warden’s party at the Circle but she’d visit the tower with Cousland plenty of times afterward. If the mage recognized him, she said nothing. Leliana caught his gaze from her position down the hallway and shrugged. He’d talk to her about it later. Morrigan being a part of things made him more than little apprehensive.

For now, he turned his attention to his Inquisitor.

“There you are,” he said, approaching where she leaned on the railing of the balcony. “Everyone’s been looking for you. Things have calmed down for the moment. Leliana and Sera reported in and all is well on those fronts. Are you alright?”

Evelyn turned and smiled at him tiredly.

“I’m just worn out,” she said, dipping her head and looking at her hands. “Tonight has been...very long.”

“For all of us. I’m glad it’s over.” He watched Evelyn nod and sigh heavily. Her shoulders slumped and a piece of hair fell out of its pins. He gently reached for her shoulder. “I know it’s foolish, but I was worried for you tonight.”

Evelyn smiled at him again and ran her hand gently over his. Music started up inside and Cullen grinned at her.

“I may never have another chance like this, so I must ask…” He backed away as Evelyn watched, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. Her eyes flashed to his lips and then back to his eyes. Bending at the waist, Cullen extended his hand. “May I have this dance, My Lady?”

“Of course, Commander.” Grinning, Evelyn took his hand and allowed him to pull her to his chest. “I thought you didn’t dance.”

He smiled and took the first steps easily. Evelyn’s smile grew.

“For you,” he said, quietly. “I’ll try.”

“Commander, have you been practicing?” She teased. Then she gasped and laughed out loud when he deftly spun her. He pulled her back into his arms, breathless, cheeks flushed, blue eyes shining in the moonlight.

“I may have requested some help,” he said. Evelyn’s only response was to press herself against him, letting go of his hands and slipping her arms around his waist. Cullen held her close, stilling his steps and just enjoying Evely in his arms. After a few more minutes, she sighed.

“What a fucking nightmare,” she said. “This shit exhausts me.”

“You did well, though, Ev.” Cullen kissed the top of her head. “I know you don’t like playing but we’re lucky you play so well. This was a success for us.”

“Yeah, only now I’m the babysitter of an Empress, a Duke and a rebellious elf,” she mumbled against his chest. Cullen chuckled and kissed her head again before pulling away.

“Come on,” he said, leading her back inside. “I think we can make an excuse to get you out of here so you can clean up and rest.”

Evelyn groaned and hooked her arm in his.

“Andraste’s tits, Cullen. If you can get me out of the rest of this ball, I will be forever in your debt.”

“Forever?” He was feeling bold with her at his side, several masked ladies watching them, eyes lit with jealousy. Evelyn looked up, eyes wide with surprise as was usual when he flirted back. Her surprise quickly softened to a smile.

“You think you can handle me forever?” She purred, looked up at him through her lashes. She knew that tone drove him crazy but he refused to let her win this time.

“I think I could manage,” he said, leaning close and dropping his voice to a low, rumbling timber. Evelyn stared up at him, her face flushing, eyes flashing with desire. When she didn’t manage any response, Cullen just winked and turned his focus to finding an excuse for her to retire for the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does anyone else go for Celene, Gaspard and Brialla all ruling together? I don't feel like I ever see any fics like that. I think, in the long run, it creates more of a mess, but it fit my Quizzy's personality so I went for it.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble is brewing in the Western Approach, Evelyn spends a few moment with Hawke and Stroud, Cullen has a present for Evelyn and those three words are finally uttered.

Evelyn had only one day to rest before leaving for the Western Approach. Early reports from Hawke and Stroud were not promising and worry gnawed at Cullen’s stomach. Anything Marian Hawke was involved in was almost guaranteed to be a mess. Nor had Evelyn looked ready to travel when she left - dark circles under her eyes, pale skin. She was still exhausted from the ordeal at the Winter Palace. Cullen tried to distract himself with work and a special project he’d taken on, but it wasn’t working. The withdraw symptoms worsened with his worry. At least Evelyn wasn’t here to see it.

Then, two weeks after she left, a raven arrived.

_Ready the army. We must be ready to march as soon as we return._

_-E.A. Trevelyan_

 

That was all. Leliana’s scouts had little more information. Skyhold erupted into controlled chaos. Leliana had a location - Adamant Fortress - and Josephine was busily acquiring siege equipment. The activity, at least, occupied Cullen’s mind and when Evelyn and her party arrived only days later, riding fast and hard, other worries occupied his mind.

“War room. Now.” She barely looked at him as she dismounted and tossed the reins to Dennet. Evelyn didn’t speak until the advisors, now including Morrigan, were all there. Cullen was sure she’d lost weight again and the circles under eyes had only grown darker. Her voice shook as she told them about the Wardens. When the meeting was finished, she left without a word. He hated it, but he was unable to follow her. He had a battle plan to put together.

 

_____________________

 

“I cannot imagine what they were thinking.” Stroud stared out at the valley below Skyhold and shook his head. Evelyn sighed and handed him the bottle of whiskey. He took a swig and then handed it to Hawke on his other side.

“People do stupid things out of fear,” Evelyn said. Stroud sighed.

“The Wardens are not meant to be afraid. We are meant to be stalwart in the face of certain death. To stand against the most fearsome beings to plague Thedas,” he said. Evelyn glanced at him. She liked Stroud, even with his ridiculous mustache. She liked Marian, too. If she had her way, she’d ask both of them to stay after Adamant.

“Corypheus is a master at manipulating even the smallest of fears,” Hawke said.

“Still, this is how we will be remembered now,” Stroud said sadly. “Resorting to blood magic. Aiding Corypheus. We will never be able to wipe this stain from our legacy.”

Neither Hawke nor Evelyn responded. They knew it was true. With a sigh, Evelyn clapped Stroud on the shoulder. She needed to get away from here, pull herself out of this doom and gloom She needed Cullen.

“Don’t give up yet,” she told the Warden. “I’ll do whatever I can to salvage this. I’m sure there are some at Adamant who disagree with this course of action.”

“I appreciate the optimism,” Stroud said. Evelyn offered a smile and then turned towards Cullen’s towers. Candles burned brightly in the windows, even at the late hour. She closed the door behind her and locked it.

“You need to sleep,” she said. Cullen looked up from the reports in his hands. His armor was off, his hair disheveled and his skin shone with sweat. He looked truly awful.

“There’s too much to be done,” he said and looked back at his reports. Evelyn walked over to him and stood silently until he looked up at her again.

“You’re no good to anyone if you don’t rest. You don’t fool me, Rutherford. The withdraw is getting worse.” She pushed a few loose curls off his forehead. “You’re burning up.”

Cullen closed his eyes and leaned into Evelyn’s touch. The move tugged at her heart. Then he turned his head and pressed his lips to the inside of her palm. The circles under his eyes were nearly as dark as hers.

“Alright,” he said and set down his papers. “Only if you agree to do the same.”

“Actually,” Evelyn bit her lip, unsure if she should ask for what she wanted. But she’d been thinking about it for days and she wanted it; needed it. “Can I stay with you? To sleep, I mean.”

Cullen froze for a moment and then relaxed.

“I’d like that.” His voice was soft and his smile sweet. Evelyn sighed in relief. She’d been dreading spending another night alone, thoughts and fears swirling around in her head. Ever since finding the Wardens at the Western Approach; watching them kill one another, control one another, she’d had nightmares. Cullen nodded up towards his loft. “I’ll meet you up there in a few minutes.”

Evelyn nodded and started up the ladder. Below her, she could hear Cullen removing his armor. When she finally got to her feet, she turned around slowly, studying her commander’s room. It was clean and simple, just like she’d imagined it would be. A cool breeze bit at her skin and she looked up to see a giant hole in the ceiling.

“You have a hole in our ceiling,” she said when she heard him top the ladder.

“I like being able to see the sky when the nightmare’s wake me,” he said from behind her. His arms slipped around her waist and he pressed a kiss to her temple. “I saw you out with Hawke and Stroud on the battlements. You like them.”

“Is that so bad?” Evelyn kept her eyes on the stairs, deciding she liked the hold in Cullen’s ceiling too.

“Not at all,” Cullen chuckled. “Though I shudder to think of the trouble you and Hawke could cause. I’m always impressed by your ability to connect with so many different people. Hawke is not always an easy person to get on with. And Stroud seems….aloof.”

“Nah, he’s just, you know…”Evelyn tried to find an appropriate word for the Warden.

“Aloof?” Cullen offered. Evelyn turned around to find him grinning at her.

“Oh, stop.” She shook her head and then noticed that Cullen was holding one of his hands behind his back. There was a twinkle in his eye. He was up to something. “What are you doing?”

“I had something made for you,” he said, a slight blush creeping up his neck. She liked it when he blushed; loved that, sometimes, just her presence was enough to fluster her solemn commander. Evelyn raised an eyebrow and waited.

His flush deepened and he pulled his arm around his body. In his hand was a bundle of fabric and fur. Evelyn glanced back up at Cullen’s expectant face and then back down at the item in his hands. Carefully, Evelyn lifted it from Cullen’s grip and gasped when the cloth dropped.

In her hands, Evelyn held a cloak of thick, soft midnight blue fabric. The collar was made of a dark gray fur. Down the edges, silver thread was stitched in whorls and spirals. Evelyn’s throat tightened. He’d made had a cloak made for her. it was so simple but so, so sweet.

“It’s not bear fur but I thought the blue and grey suited you better.” Cullen stepped forward and gently took the cloak from her. He continued to speak as he settled the fabric across her shoulders. “I had Josie and Leliana help me design it.”

He told her how to tie the small, hidden ties along the collar to create a hood. then he showed her where it tied around her waist and how to hold the fabric back so it fell more like a cape. Evelyn didn’t say a word as she watched Cullen move about her, brows furrowed in concentration. She couldn’t. He’d made this for her; designed it, just for her. He’d chosen colors suited for her; had other’s help.

“I love you,” she whispered when she could finally speak. Cullen stilled, eyes flickering up to hers. Evelyn’s heart pounded in her throat. It had been years since she’d dared to say those words. She’d regretted saying them so much then. She fought to keep her breathing steady. Without a word, Cullen took her face in his hands and ran his thumbs over her cheekbones. And when he kissed her, it was slow and gentle and Evelyn thought her heart would burst.

All the air left her lungs when Cullen pulled his lips away and pressed his forehead to hers.

“I love you, Evelyn,” he said, his voice rough with emotion and damn her if his words didn’t bring tears to her eyes. “Maker, I love you so much.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisition approaches Adamant Fortress and Evelyn feels the pressures of approaching battle.

Cullen smiled every time he saw Evelyn in her cloak. It suited her perfectly, making her look formidable and elegant at once. Josephine had gushed over the garment, Dorian frequently expressed his surprise at Cullen’s ability to pull off such a gift and Varric just winked at him incessantly.

It was about the only bright spot in the days as the Inquisition forces moved towards Adamant Fortress. The mood in the camps grew increasingly tense the closer they came. Cullen could feel his withdraw slowly get worse but Evelyn was there, every night, in his cot. It made it easier. He didn't his best to hide it from her - she had enough burdens.

“Cooling the fire that burns within; night to my day.” Cole appeared at Cullen’s side. “Moon to my sun. Soothing and soft. Secure and safe. The colors are right.”

“The colors?” Cullen asked. He’d gotten used to Cole popping up at his side when he was thinking of her, especially when she was away on missions. Early on, it had unsettled Cullen - the idea of having a spirit roam Skyhold freely - but he found comfort in the boy’s presence now. When he wasn’t embarrassing him in front of the others. He’d been working with Cole to learn boundaries. Progress was slow, but it was progress. Cole looked up at him.

“It’s why you chose blue; to balance your red. You should tell her. She’d like that. She needs your warmth in her life of coldness.”

“I’ll think on it.” Cullen’s heart pounded in his chest. It had been exactly what he’d wanted to imply with the blue and grey, if only for himself. To remind him that he had a counterbalance to his madness; an anchor. He’d never really thought she’d need him as much as he needed her. There was a peace in that knowledge that he’d never felt before.

 

\----------------------

 

Every night she crawled into his cot. She didn’t care who saw. She’d meant what she’d said told him months ago - the Inquisition could have many things from her, but it could not have him. Let tongues wag. She needed him, now more than ever. Fear ate at her night and day. She lost her appetite. She couldn’t sleep, even with his arms around her.

Each day they crept closer to the Warden fortress the panic clawed higher and higher in her chest. She did her best to keep on a brave face but her friends noticed. They tried to talk to her but she told them she was fine. She made battle plans with Cullen, scrutinized scouting reports with Leliana, gathered noble support with Josephine along the way. She divided her companions into groups that best supported one another, apologizing to Bull and Dorian she split them up. Cassandra continued to insist that Evelyn keep a healer with her during the battle and she was right.

She went through the motions of a leader, the energy required to focus, to wear the mask of confidences, draining her to utter exhaustion. Yet at night, all she could think about the lives that would be lost in the upcoming fight; the blood that would be on her hands. Her friends could be lost; people she cared about, and it would be her fault. They were four days away from Adamant before Cullen finally pressed the issue. They lay in bed, the torches outside casting long shadows on the side of the tent. Evelyn hadn’t eaten dinner. Or lunch. Cullen’s eyes had been on her all day.

“Talk to me, Ev,” he said, his voice low, his breath hot against the back of her neck. She could smell the smokey scent of the campfire clinging to his skin just underneath his soap. When she didn’t respond, he pushed harder. “You can’t let the fear overcome you, Evelyn. People do stupid things out of fear. You told me that once. If you don’t deal with this, you’re going to fall apart. It could happen in the middle of the battle and someone could get hurt. I know you don’t want that. Let me help, Ev. Please.”

Evelyn shuddered against him. He always knew what she needed to hear and she both loved him and hated him for that.

“I can’t….” her words caught in her throat. She hated admitting she was so afraid; hated looking weak; feeling weak. Closing her eyes, she forced herself to think logically. She was heading into battle in four days. She wasn’t eating. She wasn’t sleeping and it would catch up with her. Just like Cullen said. He wouldn’t think her weak. She knew he wouldn’t hold it against her. Yet, after so many years of not being able to say what she felt without fear of manipulation and abuse, she just couldn’t get the words out.

And then the man that could only be Maker sent, pulled her closer and whispered the only words that would help her speak.

“I’m not them, Ev,” he said, kissing her neck. “You’re safe with me.”

Evelyn turned to him, tears burning in her eyes, and wrapped her arms around his strong waist and pressed her face into his chest. She breathed in his scent, comforting and familiar, and let it anchor her.

“I’m so scared, Cullen.” Once the admission was out, it was like a floodgate opening. “There are so many people depending on me and I know I can’t save them all. It makes me sick thinking about it. I’m a rogue, a thief, not a general. I have no idea how to lead a battle and if I mess up...so many, so many could die.”

“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not leading a battle, then.” The lightness in Cullen’s tone made Evelyn pulled back, instantly irritated. “I believe you have a Commander for that. A fairly good one, if the reports are correct.”

Evelyn gaped at him, trying to decide if she should be angry or relieved. Cullen must have seen her indecision because he gently cupped her face.

“Let me do my job, Evelyn. I’m good at what I do - just as good as Leliana and Josephine. Trust me as you do them. Those men are mine; the responsibility of their lives is mine. You have enough responsibility. Don’t carry more than you must.” His voice was stern and gently at the same time. If it had been anyone else, Evelyn might have punched them for the scolding. But wasn’t anyone, it was Cullen. Her Cullen. Her Commander.

“I trust you,” she whispered and then let out a loud sigh, mentally letting go. Cullen was good as his job, far better than she could ever hope to be.

“That’s my girl.”

She could hear the teasing in his voice but she glared at him all the same. It was half-hearted. A part of her loved hearing him say it, a fact that she quickly attributed to the way her brain got all fuzzy when he was around. His grin grew wider as she glared at him, his scar pulling up tantalizingly.

“The things I let you get away with, Commander Rutherford,” she mumbled. Cullen chuckled, his chest rumbling against her, and leaned into kiss her. Evelyn melted into the kiss. And then burst out laughing when her stomach rumbled loud enough for Cullen to pull away, startled.

“Maker, woman, when did you last eat?” Cullen shook his head. Evelyn ducked her head.

“Breakfast.”

Cullen groaned and rolled off the cot, pulling her with him.

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s find you some food.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The complete and utter shit-storm that is Adamant Fortress

The next four days were easier. The fear was still there but it didn’t consume her. She allowed Cullen to make his plans, memorizing her part but letting her Commander command. The night before they were to launch the attack, Evelyn stood at the edge of camp, staring at the fires lit atop Adamant in the distance.

“You lead an impressive force, Inquisitor.” Stroud appeared at her side, hands folded behind his back.

“Thank you," she said. "Though, it turns out I'm not really leading it right now. Not that I'm complaining. There are far better talents at running an army than me."

“Ah, so the Commander was able to speak with you,” Stroud said casually. Evelyn spun her head to look at him. He just shrugged. “Your companions love you and they were all concerned - and not many of them have much discretion. It was obvious you were struggling and then, not so much. It is important to have those you can lean on in times of need, especially when so many look to you."

Evelyn didn’t respond, refocusing her gaze on Adamant. She wasn’t sure she liked that everyone had noticed how she was struggling, but it would do no good to get angry over it now. A comfortable silence hung between her and Stroud.

“Does it ever get easier?” Evelyn asked after a while. “Leading men; knowing that some will die?”

“Never,” Stroud answered, his voice deep and grave.

“How do you handle it?” Evelyn’s voice cracked just a bit. Stroud sighed.

“You accept that they made the same choice as you - to fight and possibly die, for what you believe in. And you honor that choice by not carrying the responsibility of their lives yourself. The choice was theirs and theirs alone. Sometimes that choice is the only one they truly get. Carrying the responsibility yourself, I believe, diminishes that choice; the freedom of it.”

Evelyn mulled over the Warden’s words a bit. The night breeze cooled the sweat from the daylight sun on her neck. Behind her, she could hear the constant low hum of the camps. Finally, she squeezed Stroud’s arm.

“Thank you, Stroud,” she said. The man nodded and returned to staring at the night sky. Evelyn returned to camp, smiling and nodding at the soldiers she passed. Several offered her food and drink, but she politely declined.  She paused for a moment outside of Cullen's tent, eyes scanning the camp. Fires lit the night, reflecting orange off the low hanging clouds. She'd expected silence, trepidation, but there was laughter and singing and chatter. Cullen told her this was good - it showed that their men and women had hope; they expected the battle to go in their favor.

Evelyn drew in a deep, steadying breath and tipped her head back to the sky. Closing her eyes she said a quick prayer to the Maker - the first genuine one she'd whispered in years - and then slipped inside the tent to attempt sleep.

Tomorrow, the Inquisition attacked Adamant.

 

\----------------

 

Cullen watched Evelyn give the last orders to her inner circle. She seemed better, stronger. He knew she was still afraid - anyone heading into a siege would be a fool not to be. But she seemed to have a hold on it.

“Hawke, Stroud, we’ll follow you in.” Evelyn’s voice was strong and sure. It was the first time he’d really seen her in action since Haven, and he was once again struck by her steadfastness, the surety with which she moved and commanded others. More so now that he understood how hard she fought for it; how she stood tall despite her fears.

“Don’t die, Hawke,” Varric shouted after the mage. “I don’t want to write that letter to Broody.”

Hawke waved Varric off as she ran toward the fortress.

“Cass, Bull and Solas are with me,” Evelyn continued. “Blackwall, Sera, Viv, and Varric, you’re with Rawlin and the Templar unit. Dorian and Cole, you’ll be with the mages just behind Cullen and the main force. Find and support any Wardens resisting the ritual. They may have fucked up, but we still need them. Watch each other’s backs and don’t be stupid.”

“Rousing speech. Inquisitor,” Dorian teased. Evelyn flipped him a rude gesture, sending Sera into a peal of laughter.

“I mean it.” Evelyn looked at her friends. “If any of you arse holes die, I’ll beat the shit out of you.”

 

\-------------

 

Evelyn fired arrow after arrow up at the walls. She wasn’t a great shot but it was better than waiting for Cullen’s men to break down the gate. Her heart pounded in her chest. Men fell around her and Evelyn had to look away, afraid the bile in her throat would overwhelm her. The men could not see their Inquisitor vomiting on the battlefield. The stench was terrible. She was not unused to the smells of guts and waste on the battlefield but in was so close here, so concentrated, it was making her stomach roil.

A thunderous crack rang through the air and the gate to the Warden fortress stood open. Evelyn clenched her jaw and started forward, stopping when Cullen’s voice came from behind her.

“You’ve got your way in. Best make use of it.” He was all Commander now, striding with purpose, brow pulled tight. “We’ll keep the main host of demons occupied for as long as we can.”

“I’ll be fine,” Evelyn said, sounding surer than she felt. “Just keep the men safe.”

“We’ll do what we have to.” His voice was still stern but his eyes softened just a bit. Above them, a demon screamed and Cullen’s eyes hardened again. “There’s too much resistance on the walls. Our men on the ladders can’t get a foothold. If you could clear out the enemies on the battlements, we’ll cover your advance.”

Evelyn nodded. They held one another’s gaze for a moment and then Evelyn launched herself at him. Grasping the edge of his armor, she pulled him down for a fast, hard kiss. Then she pressed her forehead to his.

“I love you,” she whispered fiercely.

“I love you, too.”

 

\-------------

 

Cullen lost all track of time. Evelyn and her party had cleared the battlements and then gone after the Wardens. In the rest of the fortress, the fighting seemed to slow. Several Warden warriors joined their fight. He was beginning to feel confident when a crack resounded through the night.

He pulled up, watching as the Archdemon fell from a crumbling ledge. And then Hawke. And then Stroud.

And then Evelyn.

Cullen’s heart stopped. He felt his knees grow weak. The rest of his body followed and he fell to knees, his armor clanging on the stone floor. Cullen heard Dorian shout.

“Bull!”

He watched helplessly as Evelyn twisted in the air and stuck her hand out. A green rift tore open the sky just below Stroud and Cullen gasped, horrified, as the others fell into it. The rift snapped shut behind them.

“What. The. Fuck.” Varric appeared at her side. “What just happened?”

Cullen shook his head, dumb-struck. Vivienne, Sera, and Dorian all came to stand with him.

“She’s opened a rift,” Vivienne said, worry clear in her voice. “Whatever was she thinking?”

“She was thinking it was her only way out.” Dorian’s voice was tight. Cullen glanced at his friend and caught his eyes, sharing the terror he saw there. The people they loved were in there. Trapped in the Fade. Sera was in a panic speaking so fast he couldn’t understand her. Then Cole spoke, appearing out of nowhere, standing next to where Cullen still kneeled on the ground.

“Desperate hope. Falling. Falling and hoping. It has to work. It has to. This isn’t how I go. Not how they go.”

Cullen twisted and grabbed the boy by the shoulders. Cole’s eerie eyes met his slowly.

“Is she alive? Please, tell me she’s alive.” He was begging but he didn’t care. He didn't care who saw; he didn't care who judged. Maker, she had to be alive. Cole nodded his head and Cullen dropped his head in relief.

“And the others?” Dorian asked desperately.

“Alive,” Cole said, tipping his head to the side. “All alive. Alive but scared. Fear lives there. Nightmares upon nightmares upon nightmares.”

 

\--------------

 

“No. This is the Fade,” Solas said, wonder in his voice. Despite their situation, Evelyn rolled her eyes. Of course, he would be excited about it. Evelyn turned her focus to their surroundings, tuning Solas out. Bull appeared at his side.

“Ah, this is shitty,” Bull rumbled, shaking his head. “I’ll fight whatever you give me, Boss, but no one said nothing about getting dragged through the ass end of demon town.”

Evelyn reached out and squeezed his arm.

“Sorry, Bull.”

“It may be your doing, _dalen,_ but it is not your fault.” Solas started ahead of them. “You may have saved us.”

“Yeah,” Bull huffed. “This must be a dream come true for your crazy ass.”

“It is. Literally,” Solas replied, ignoring any insult, as usual.

“Let’s move forward.” Cassandra’s voice was unusually weak. Evelyn looked at her, worried, but the Seeker shook her head when Evelyn caught her eyes. Sure that everyone was alive and relatively safe, Evelyn led the way towards the looming rift, her thoughts flashing to Cullen, probably panicking on the other side.

 

\------------

 

“Fear. So much fear. Choking. Blinding. Drowning. Trapped in. Helpless. Weak. I’ll fail them. I’ll fail.”

Cullen started at Cole’s voice, suddenly at his side again. The others had gone their separate ways in the hours since the Inquisitor had fallen into the Fade. The fighting had all but stopped, save for the rift still open in the courtyard. They were rotating men through, trying to keep back wave after wave of demons. Cole had popped up at his side from time to time, giving him updates that grew increasingly worrisome.

“Cole?”

“The NIghtmare has his claws in her heart.”

“What nightmare?” Cullen’s heart pounded. “Cole, tell me what’s happening.”

“Won’t let it win. Won’t let it. Think of him. Of warmth and strength. I won’t fail. Not with him; not with them. We are strong. I am stronger. Think of honey and sunlight. Hold on to him.”

 

\------------

 

“We need to clear a path!” Stroud shouted. Evelyn stared up at the Nightmare demon and shuddered. The fear had nearly done her in; still made her nauseous. She clenched her hand, digging her fingernails into her palms, the pain helping her focus. They were so close; so close to getting free. She had to get them out. It was her job; her responsibility, and she refused to fail.

“Go! I’ll clear you a path!” Hawke answered. Her and Stroud began to argue over who would stay as the others ran up the mountain to the rift hanging above them. Evelyn spun to face them, about to order them both through the rift. She’d stay herself. Then she remembered she was the only one who could close this rift back on the other side. Panicked, she looked between the two and knew, nauseatingly, she’d have to choose. Her nails dug deeper into her palms. 

“The Wardens must be rebuilt,’ Hawke snapped at Stroud, mouth pulled tight, eyes snapping with anger. Blood dripped down the side of her face from where the Nightmare had tossed her into a boulder. Stroud's eye was bruised, his nose broken, blood dripping from his nostrils. She could feel blood running down her neck. They were a mess - the lot of them. “That’s your job!”

“And who will rebuild Fenris?” Stroud asked softly. Hawke’s fierce expression broke at that, her eyes growing wide. Stroud turned to face Evelyn. “This is my choice, Inquisitor. Allow me this.”

Tears burned her eyes. She hated this. Hated leaving him behind. But she could hear the demon growing closer. Cassandra and Bull and Dorian shouting for her. 

"Stroud..." she choked out but he cut her off, shaking his head.

“Inquisitor,” he said. “It has been an honor.”

“The honor was mine.” Before she could second guess herself, before the sorrow could overwhelm her, Evelyn grabbed Hawke’s hand and ran.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn is barely holding it together after stepping out of the Fade.

“They’re back.” Cole whispered at his side. Cullen dropped the reports in his hands. 

“Where?”

“The rift.”

He was tearing through the fortress, not caring if he made a spectacle of himself. All the while praying she was okay; hoping she was safe. His heart pounded; blood rushed in his ears, shoving men out of the way as he ran. When he rounded the last corner to the courtyard, he skidded to a stop.

The rift was closed, the fighting quiet and atop the small raised platform at the center of the courtyard, Evelyn glowered at the crowed gathered around her. There were several cuts and bruises on her face and she favored her left side, but she was alive and well. And she was angry. 

“Warden Stroud died for your idiocy!” She shouted. Cullen froze at the sound of her voice. It was harsh, cold and unforgiving.  Fury snapped in her eyes. “He was a good man and he died because of your mistakes. Your foolishness!”

“Inquisitor, we have no one left of significant rank…” Someone shouted. Evelyn turned her deadly gaze to the speaking Warden and Cullen instinctively moved forward in case he needed to interfere. He’d never seen her like this - so angry she hardly seemed herself. He wondered for a moment if this was a glimpse of her grandfather; the man who had run the Trevelyan household with and iron fist for years. “What do we do now?”

The poor man was begging. For a moment, Cullen thought Evelyn would order them away. Exile the Wardens. The advisors had gone over her options just that morning. He watched her clench and unclench her fist. It was then he noticed she was shaking. Trembling. 

“You stay and do whatever you can to help.” Her voice was tight and forced, like she didn’t want the words to come out. “Stroud died for the ideals of the Wardens. In war, victory. And we are still at war. Do you believe the Wardens can still help?”

“I do, Your Worship.”

“You’re still vulnerable to Corypheus, and possibly his Venatori, but there are still plenty of demons that need killing.” Evelyn’s shaking was more visible now and from across the courtyard, Cullen caught Rawlin’s worried glance. 

“Thank you, your worship,” the lone Warden said. Evelyn just glared at him.

“Don’t make me regret it,” she growled as she strode down the dias towards him.

“After all that, you give them another chance?” Cassandra demanded. Evelyn glared at the Seeker, leaning close as she walked by. 

“Yes,” Evelyn snarled so fiercely that Cassandra stepped back. She offered no other explanation as she continued toward Cullen. Evelyn didn’t meet his eyes as she approached. 

“A word, Commander.”

Cullen nodded and followed, glancing back at Cassandra who stared after the Inquisitor in shock. Evelyn led the way through the soldiers and into the maze of corridors that would lead them back to camp. She barely made it around the first corner before the trembling racked her whole body. Her breathing quickened and Cullen could hear her muttering to herself. 

“Not real. Not real. It wasn’t real.” Her voice broke as she stumbled forward. Cullen reached out and grabbed her by the waist before she hit the ground. 

“Evelyn?” Cullen pulled her to her feet and Evelyn clung to him. It was then that he saw the tears running down her face, leaving clean tracks of skin through dirt and blood. He hadn’t seen her cry since the first day they’d met, despite all the trials she’d faced. “Okay, let’s find somewhere to sit down.”

She nodded. And then she lurched away from him, ducking into a crumbling doorway. Cullen reached for her waist again as she retched and sobbed. He did his best to hold her steady, his own eyes burning with tears at watching her, feeling helpless and worthless. Whatever had happened in the Fade had been bad. Very bad. 

After a minute or two, Evelyn straightened and wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. Cullen led her a few feet down the corridor and then let her slide down the wall. Evelyn pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them as Cullen knelt in front of her. 

“Ev, what happened?” He reached out and pushed a few stray pieces of hair away from her face. Evelyn took a shuddering breath. 

“We, um, we met a spirit. Or….something,” she whispered. “She looked like the Divine.”

“Justinia?” Cullen’s gut twisted. Evelyn nodded. 

“She helped us - she helped me recover my memories from the Conclave. They were taken by a Nightmare demon working for Corypheus.”

_ Nightmares upon nightmares upon nightmares. _ Cole’s words echoed in Cullen’s mind and he could not suppress the shudder that ran through him. If she had faced down a Nightmare demon…

“You remember now? What happened at the Conclave?”

“I interrupted a ritual.” She looked up at him. “I was just in the wrong place at the right time. Not chosen. Not destined. The Maker, Andraste, they had nothing to do with this. Nothing to do with me.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Cullen said without hesitation. He’d never cared if she was chosen or not. She was her and that was what made her incredible. He took her face in his hands. Evelyn shook her head and bit her lip, tears pooling in her eyes again. 

“You should have seen Cass’s face when she realized it.” A sob escaped her and she dropped her head. “She was so...disappointed. In me!”

Sobs shook her shoulders and she pressed her face into her knees. Cullen tried to find the rights words but had none. 

“And then we had to fight the Nightmare.” Her words were muffled. “Hawke, Stroud and I got cut off - we couldn’t make it to the rift. Both of those idiots wanted to stay, standing there arguing as the Nightmare bore down on us..”

Cullen’s heart sand when he realized what had happened. Ever the leader, ever making the difficult decisions, she’d been forced to choose. 

“Oh, Ev.”

She lifted a tear-stained face to look at him. Her eyes, usually so bright and full of life even in the worst of times, were dark and dull. 

“There was no other way out,” she whispered. “I chose Stroud. I asked him to stay; to die. He was my friend and I told him to die!”

She was lost then, eyes squeezed shut, sobs shaking her entire body. Not knowing what to do, Cullen looked desperately up and down the hall, looking for somewhere to take her; a more private place for her to mourn. She wouldn’t want anyone to see her this way.

Then he saw Rawlin and Leliana hurrying around the corner. Cullen let out a sigh of relief. Leliana hung back as Rawlin sat next to his sister and pulled her into his arms. Evelyn went willingly into his embrace, curling herself into him. Cullen pushed himself up and went to Leliana. He could almost see the wheels turning in her mind as she took in the situation, assessed it and ran through their options. 

“We must find a more secluded place,” the spymaster said quietly. “Then men should not see her like this. For their sake, as well as hers.”

Cullen nodded his agreement but before he could say anything, Evelyn’s panicked voice pitched behind.

“Fuck! It’s all over me. I need to get it off! Please. Please.”

He whipped around to see Evelyn scooting back from Rawlin, clawing at her hands, her armor, her hair. Rawlin reached for her but she jerked away as she continued to sob. “His blood. So much. There’s so much of it. Maker, please.”

“We need to calm her down. Get her out of here,” Leliana snapped. Cullen looked back at her and glared. 

“Just….block off the corridor,” he growled. Leliana narrowed her eyes at him for a moment before turning on her heel. Cullen didn’t watch her go, instead turning his attention back to Evelyn. She was now brushing at her arms frantically.

“Get them off! Get them off!” She cried over and over. 

“What, Evie?” Rawlin sounded nearly as panicked as her. “What?”

“The spiders,” she sobbed. “They’re all over me. Get them off!”

Cullen recognized the symptoms all too well -he'd lived though it enough times; locked in his room at Kinloch or the Gallows, fighting off the waking nightmares that haunted him night and day. He knelt down in front of her and reached out for her hands, hoping to calm her. But when she looked at Cullen, her face paled even more and she flinched back, eyes wide with terror.

“No!” she gasped. “No. You stopped. You stopped taking it. How did it corrupt you? How?”

“What is the Void is going on?” Rawlin demanded, looking at Cullen.

“A waking nightmare,” he said. As much as he wanted to go to her, to pull her close to him, it may only make her worse. “You try talking to her. Stay calm. Keep your voice even.”

Rawlin moved in front of his sister, but received the same reaction as Cullen. Nothing was working. Evelyn's breathing was getting faster, more shallow. A layer of sweat shimmered on her skin. He had to find a way to calm her down; to pull her back to reality. Desperate, Cole’s words from earlier came back to him; Evelyn’s thoughts of him from the Fade.

“It’s me, Ev. This is real.” He moved in front of her once again, keeping his voice quiet and even. Blue eyes locked on his, still wide and afraid. “Honey and sunlight. Your honey and sunlight. It’s me, Darlin’.”

He had to say it a few times before recognition washed over her and her eyes cleared. Her body sagged visibly with relief and she reached out for him, grasping his arms so tightly it made Cullen wince. The tears dried up; the breathing slowed and Leliana returned. Cullen wasn’t sure how much time passed when the spymaster cleared her throat. 

“I’ve found a room that was mostly untouched by battle,” she said quietly. “We can sequester her there until she is fit to return to camp.”

“No,” Evelyn finally broke her silence, though she didn’t look at any of them. “If I hide, it wins. And I won’t...I won’t be afraid.”

“Evie…”Rawlin began to argue.

“I said, no,” Evelyn snapped. Then she let go of Cullen and pushed herself up off the ground. It was uncharacteristically clumsy but she did it on her own, though Cullen was ready to catch her if she fell. She took a few shuddering breaths and Cullen watched her blink several times, as if trying to clear her vision. Then she started forward, head held high. 

Several times as they made their way through the fortress, Evelyn would freeze and press herself into his side like she saw something that frightened her. A few times she asked him if something was real - was there really a demon hovering over Rylen’s shoulders; were there really carrion eating the corpses of the dead; were there hordes of spiders crawling over the battlefield. He answered her questions quietly. It seemed to take them hours to reach her tent and he could sense her strength depleting as they went but she kept her head held high, despite the gasps of fear he heard every few minutes. She was still seeing things - still caught between nightmare and reality. 

When they finally reached her tent, she dropped into a chair that had somehow made the journey from Skyhold along with the fur rugs and the straw bed. The Inquisitor had the war-time set-up of a queen. Somehow, in the middle of the room, a tub of steaming water was waiting. 

“How in Andraste’s name did you manage to get a hot bath in here, Leli?” Rawlin gaped at the spymaster. Despite everything, Cullen did not miss the nickname. In all the years he had known Leliana, he'd only ever heard the Warden and the Inquisitor call her that - two of her dearest friends. And now, Rawlin Trevelyan. His eyes flashed to Leliana but she just grinned at the young Templar.

“I have many talents, Ser Trevelyan,” she answered. “For now, let’s leave your sister to wash the Fade from her.”

Cullen waited for the two of them to duck out of the tent before turning his attention back to Evelyn. 

“Do you need help undressing?” He asked. She shook her head but when he moved away, she grasped his hand. 

“Stay with me. Please?” Her voice cracked, her eyes pleading. Cullen nodded, leaned down and gave her a quick, gentle kiss. 

“Give me a moment to get an update from Leliana,” he said. Evelyn nodded and pushed herself out of the chair, turning toward the bath. Cullen ducked out of the tent and joined Leliana and Rawlin just outside. 

“What’s the story?” He asked. They’d need to explain the Inquisitor’s absence after the battle and her silent march back through camp. She’d ignored several greetings; caught the attention of hundreds with her strange behavior.

“She was injured while pulling Hawke out of the Fade,” Leliana said, eyes scanning the camp as she spoke. “I’ve already spoken to Marian and she’ll corroborate. The Inquisitor will spend tonight and possibly tomorrow recovering before heading out with a small escort for Skyhold. I think some time at home would do her some good.”

“Quick and simple,” Rawlin voiced Cullen’s thoughts. 

“How are the others?” Cullen asked. “The ones that were there?”

“It’s hard to say as most of my time has been focused on the Inquisitor. Solas seems rather unaffected, though it is difficult to tell with him.” Leliana kept her voice low. “Bull seems rattled but not too deeply. However, again, it can be difficult to tell. Cassandra and Evelyn seem to have fared the worst.”

“And Hawke?”

“Shaken.” Leliana glanced at him. “Stroud was her friend. She’s with Varric now. I’ve set a guard rotation. Bull and Rawlin have agreed to handle the troops for the evening, Commander. Stay with her. If we need you, we know where to find you.”

“Thank you,” Cullen whispered. Leliana looked up at him and gave him a rare, warm smile. Then she took off, Rawlin following her with a nod to Cullen and a glance at the tent. With a sigh, Cullen ducked back into the tent. 

His eyes fell on Evelyn’s bare back. She faced away from him, legs pulled up to her chest again, chin resting on her knees. Her back was covered with bruises and scratches and dirt and blood. Slowly, so she could tell him to go if she wanted, Cullen pulled a stool next to the tub. Evelyn’s knees covered her chest and the deep water covered everything else. She didn’t look at him when he dipped a cloth into the water, took her hands in his and gently began washing the dirt and grime off her skin. He washed all the way up one arm and down the other, paying close attention to her hands; making sure any trace of blood was washed away. Still, she did not move. 

Then he moved to her back, rubbing her favorite lilac scented soap into her skin and rinsing it off. He pulled her hair out of it’s braids, wetting it and lathering it with soap. Evelyn finally showed signs of life then, leaning into his touch as he rinsed the bubbles from her midnight tresses. She picked up the cloth he’d been using and finished washing herself. 

When Cullen finished with her hair, he handed her a towel and turned away so she could dry off and dress. He busied himself with washing away some of the stains of battle from his hands and face with the cold water from a pitcher on her desk. When he turned around to face Evelyn again, she was fully dressed. Finally, she looked up at him, eyes clear and focused once again.

“I’m sorry,” she croaked, her voice raw. Cullen shook his head and grabbed her gently by the arms, rubbing his hands up and down. 

“For what?” He asked and Evelyn dropped her eyes. 

“For...breaking.” Her voice was tiny and quiet. Cullen clenched his jaw to keep his irritation at bay. That she was apologizing to him, after what she’d been through, was infuriating. He slid a finger under her chin and raised her face until she was looking at him once again. 

“Don’t,” he said, his voice more of a growl then he’d intended. “You’re allowed to feel, to grieve, to cry, to be afraid. Even do it in front of others. I believe Sera would call that “being people.” Or some such Sera nonsense.”

Evelyn choked out a short laugh and then dropped her face into her hands. 

“I haven’t been that afraid since Redcliff,” she mumbled. “Not even at Haven. And that fucker knew it. He reached down into my mind and pulled out every little thing that has ever scared me and swirled them together until I couldn’t think straight. He played me like a mother-fucking fiddle, Cullen. And I let him. I let him almost beat me.”

Had it been anyone else, Cullen might have worried at the anger shaking her voice. But this was Evelyn and that anger meant she was pulling herself out of despair. She was getting her fight back. 

“Even after.” She lifted her head and looked at him, anger snapping in her eyes. “He got to me even after I was out. Making me see terrible things; things I fear; you and Rawlin as Red Templars. Fucking bastard. Why are you smiling at me?”

Cullen leaned and kissed her, hard and fast. When he pulled back, Evelyn was blinking at him in surprise.

“I'm smiling because you amaze me,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers. “You are so tough, Ev. I know what it’s like to almost lose yourself to a demon and I know what it can take to crawl back out of that hole. After what happened, no one would think less of you if you took weeks, months, to recover. Yet here you are, barely an hour later, fresh from the Fade - again - and you’re fighting back. It took me ten years.”

Evelyn bit her lip and held her gaze, her blue eye searching his for something. 

“Those words you said,” she whispered. “Honey and sunlight. How did you…”

“Cole,” Cullen answered. Evelyn’s brow pulled together in confusion. “He was tracking you.”

“Oh.” Evelyn kept her eyes on him, her expression unreadable, for several long seconds. “That saved me today. Thinking of you. It’s how I think of you - warm and safe. A refuge from what my life was - cold and dark. Like the sun warming the world on a cold morning.”

Cullen didn’t respond immediately. Even if he’d had the right words, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get the them out. Instead, he lifted her cloak from where it hung on her chair and settled it across her shoulders. Evelyn watched him expectantly, but Cullen didn’t respond until he had found the words he needed. 

“I’ve always thought of you as moonlight; a shining hope in a sea of darkness; cooling the heat that rages through me; calming the panic and fear. Like the night cooling the heat of day.” As he spoke, Evelyn’s eyes grew wide, taking in his words. Cullen smoothed down the fur of her collar as he continued. “It’s why I chose these colors for you - to remind me every time I looked at you that I could do this. I would endure with you there, by my side.”

“Cullen,” Evelyn whispered, leaning for him and capturing his lips with hers. Cullen cupped her face in his hands and even when she pulled her lips away, he kept her face close. “I can be your moon if you’ll be my sun.”

Cullen opened his eyes and met her bright blue ones. 

“Deal,” he whispered back. Evelyn pressed her lips together.

“I love you.”

“And I love you,” he answered. “And I’m here. Whatever you need to get through this, we’ll do it together. Okay?”

Evelyn nodded. 

“Together,” she agreed.

 

 


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today is a two-fer.

Josie arrived at the tent just a while later, clearly anxious to ensure that Evelyn was alright. Cullen left the Inquisitor to Josephine’s care and went to go check in with Rawlin and Bull, Dorian lurking in the Qunari’s shadow.

“How is she?” Rawlin asked. Cullen drew in a deep breath.

“Better,” he said. “For now. I think it will be some time before she finally recovers but we’ll figure it out.”

“We?” Dorian quipped next to Bull. Thankfully, Cullen was saved from making any explanation by the mage’s lover.

“It’s going to take us all a while,” Bull growled. Cullen watched the mountain of a man reach back for Dorian’s hand. The mage grasped it tightly, running his thumb over scarred Qunari knuckles. Cullen knew the two had been sleeping together but he wasn’t sure when they’d become quite so...affectionate. He made a mental note to check with Evelyn later. “Place was shitty.”

Cullen went over a few more details with the men and when he was satisfied with everything, he sent them off to bed. He smiled to himself when Dorian slipped his arm around Bull’s waist. Then he checked in with Rylen and a few others before heading to his tent to change. About halfway there, Cole appeared at his side.

“Sun and moon. Half of a whole, fit together. Never thought, never dreamed of being so complete. To feel so full.” Cole looked up at him, eyes shining when Cullen paused. “She loves it. Loves that you see her that way. It makes her feel stronger.”

“You helped today, Cole,” Cullen said. The spirit practically glowed when he smiled.

“You let me,” he said and then he was gone.

“Knight-Captain Cullen, making friendly with a spirit.” Hawke’s voice cut into the night. Cullen turned around her see her laying on a bedroll next to a fire, her head resting on Varric’s lap. “Now that is something I never thought I’d see. I guess you really have changed.”

“People do that,” Cullen quipped at her her. It had always been this way with them - snappy and sarcastic. Cullen supposed it was because neither of them wanted to be sincere with all the things they’d been through. And that was fine with him. Hawke chuckled at his response.

“So they say,” she said. “Wouldn’t have to do with a raven-haired Lady Inquisitor, would it?”

“And if it did?” The words were out of his mouth before he realized it, as usual when it came to his thoughts on Evelyn. He groaned when Hawke and Varric gave him matching, mischievous grins. Maker, those two together were trouble.

“Oh, Curly, you do have an exquisite blush,” Hawke teased. Varric chuckled.

“How is she?” Varric asked. “Didn’t see her around after she gave the Wardens and the Seeker a thrashing. Never saw anyone make Pentagast retreat like that.”

The mirth drained from Cullen and Hawke at the same time. Varric’s grin disappeared as he looked between them.

“That bad?” He asked.

“The Nightmare demon was...awful,” Hawke spoke quietly. She was more serious than Cullen had ever seen her. “And then, when we got cut off...One of us had to stay behind. I offered…”

“Of course you did,” Varric grumbled.

“She chose Stroud because of Fenris,” Hawke whispered. “We were arguing and Stroud asked me what would happen to Fenris if stayed. She chose right then; no hesitation. She should have brought him out with her, to rebuild the Wardens; to fight Corypheus. Instead, she chose us; she chose me and Fenris.”

Cullen’s throat was so tight he couldn’t get ay words out. Of course, Evelyn chose that. Any other leader would have chosen the tactical route; Maker, he would have. But Evelyn chose with her heart; chose hope even in one of her darkest moments. Varric patted Hawke’s head.

“That’s our Raven.” Varric’s voice was rough in a rare show of emotion. “S’what makes her special.”

The three of them shared a brief silence before Cullen cleared his throat.

“It was good to see you, Hawke.” If he knew The Champion, she’d be gone before the army made it back to Skyhold. And he’d be busy. “Say hello to Fenris and the others.”

“Good to see you too, Curly,” She said. “I’m glad you’ve found something here. Found someone.”

 

\-------

 

By the time Cullen washed, changed and headed back to the Inquisitor’s tent, the sun was just turning the sky gray. The night was gone. He could hear Evelyn’s voice inside as he approached.

“I’m sorry, Cass,” she said. Cullen paused outside the flap, not wanting to interrupt. “I didn’t mean to snap. I just…”

“The apology is mine to make.” Cassandra’s voice was unusually soft. It was a tone, Cullen had noticed, that the Seeker used only with Evelyn and Leliana. Probably two of her only friends. “To make you feel as though I were disappointed in you...nothing could be further from the truth. It matters not if the Mark came from the Maker. I would still follow you into the Fade. Again. I’m sorry for making you doubt me, Evelyn.”

Cullen was surprised to hear Cassandra use Evelyn’s name. He’d never heard the Seeker do so, but he supposed Evelyn had a way of pulling people out of their shells. There were a few more mutterings and then Cassandra emerged from the tent, freezing when she saw Cullen.

“You alright?” He asked. Cassandra looked away, staring past him.

“The things we have seen since this all started, it has shaken my faith,” Cassandra said, her voice strained.

“I believe it has for all of us.” Cullen reached out and squeezed the woman’s shoulder. Cassandra’s eyes snapped back to his.

“But never in her,” she said with passion. “My faith in her, my respect for her, has only continued to grow. I regret that I made her doubt that.”

“She knows, Cass,” Cullen assured her. Cassandra held his gaze for a few seconds before pulling away and heading back through the camp. With a sigh, Cullen entered the tent to find Evelyn wrapped in Leliana’s arms. Cullen froze, sure he was imagining things. He’d never seen such a display of affection from the former bard.

“Please do not do that again,” Leliana said, taking Evelyn by the shoulders and pushing her back gently so she could look into the other woman’s eyes. “I am not accustomed to feelings of anxiety and fear and I do not wish to make it habit, yes?”

“As you say, Lady Nightingale,” Evelyn said with a twinkle in her eye.

“Good.” Leliana leaned forward and touched her cheek to Evelyn’s in a decidedly Orlesian gesture. Then the spymaster was sweeping past him. “Take good care of her, Commander.”

Cullen shook his head and smiled at Evelyn who was already pulling off her cloak and climbing into her cot. He stripped off his fresh clothes, blew out the candle and climbed in next to her. And when the nightmares woke her later that night, Cullen held her tight and they worked through the fears. Together.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NIghtmares aren't so easy to get rid of. No matter how old they are.

The nightmares hadn’t faded, for either of them. Evelyn had been called away nearly as soon as they returned to Skyhold. She’d known Cullen had been lying in his letters; knew from Bull and Leliana that his withdrawal was getting worse. She’d finally cut her trip to the Emerald Graves short. Now she wished she’d done so earlier. 

She felt herself flinch when Cullen punched the bookcase. Seeing the break in his control was unsettling and despite herself, it reminded her of so many outbursts she’d seen growing up - from her grandfather; from her brother. She forced herself to take deep breaths, slow her heartbeat. Cullen wasn’t them, she told herself; he was not them. 

“I should be taking it,” Cullen whispered. Evelyn took a few more deep breaths before she walked over to him. 

“This doesn’t have to be about the Inquisition, Cullen. Is this what you want?” She wanted to touch him, to reach out and comfort him, but she was still trembling. She didn’t want Cullen to know he’d scared her, if even for just a moment. In this state, the idea that he'd scared her could break him, regardless of how minor the offense. He looked up at her, his eyes sad. 

“No,” he whispered. “But these memories have always haunted me. If I cannot endure…”

His voice tugged at her heart. Unable to stay away from him any longer, Evelyn gently touched his cheek. She waited until his eyes met hers. 

“You can,” she said. Cullen heaved a heavy sigh, like a weight lifted off his shoulders. Then his knees buckled and he was going down. Evelyn was barely able to grab onto his waist before he hit the floor. She grunted with effort as she helped heave him upright again. 

“Fuck, you’re heavy,” she groaned. Cullen coughed out a laugh and then swayed again. 

“I think…” he started, his words slurring a bit. “I think I need to lay down a bit.”

“Yes,” Evelyn agreed. “Yes, you do. And you sure as shit can’t climb your ladder.”

“Just put me on the couch,” he said.

“Over my dead body,” Evelyn reached up and began unbuckling his armor, letting it clank to the ground. “You’re coming to my room.”

“Ev…” Cullen protested. Evelyn caught his face in her hands. 

“Do not make me repeat myself, Commander.” She used her bet Inquisitor voice and then threw in a threat she knew would get him moving. “Or I’ll get Bull to carry you there.”

Cullen groaned but let Evelyn finish taking off his armor. Then, arm tight around his waist, they made their way to Evelyn’s room. The stairs though proved too much. Cullen was nearly unconscious by the time they reached the stairwell, so Evelyn went to get Bull. When they got Cullen into bed, Bull went to gather supplies for her - food, water, a variety of potions, tea, and Cullen’s stack of paperwork so she could help get through it while he rested. 

“Anything else, Boss?” 

Evelyn looked at Cullen tangled up in the sheets, his hair wet with sweat. She shook her head, biting her lip. 

“Thanks, Bull?” Her voice was smaller than she’d like, but it was no use hiding her concern from Bull. A large hand clamped down on her shoulder and squeezed lightly - lightly for Bull, anyway. 

“The Commander is a tough guy,” he murmured. “So are you. You’ll get him through this.”

Evelyn squeezed Bull’s hand in thanks and waited for his heavy footsteps to fade down the stairs before she moved to the bed. Cullen rolled over toward her, curling his knees up to his chest. 

“You didn’t...need to stay.” He shuddered and pulled his knees in tighter. Evelyn ran her hand through his hair, curling now that it was damp. 

“Not the deal, remember? We do this together,” She said. Cullen grunted and closed his eyes. After a few minutes, his breathing slowed. Evelyn let him sleep, going through some of his paperwork and approving what she could. She answered a few letters, signed off on several orders and completed the rest of her paperwork before undressing and joining Cullen in bed. He’d pulled his shirt off at some point and his skin was covered in a light sheen of sweat. Evelyn wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed herself into his back. 

 

She was jerked awake sometime in the middle of the night. Cullen twitched back and forth in the bed, the blankets twisted around him. Shaking the sleep from her mind, Evelyn pulled back the blankets, hoping it would help calm him if he wasn’t so tangled up. 

“Cullen?’ Evelyn gently ran a hand through his hair. The only response she got was a string of mumbled phrases she couldn’t understand, so she tried again. “Cullen, sweetheart, wake up.”

It all happened so fast, even afterward, Evelyn wasn’t sure how it happened. Cullen’s eyes snapped open, his hand closed around her throat, they were out of bed struggling and then Evelyn was pinned against the wall. Maker, he strong. 

“You will not have me, demon,” Cullen growled, his eyes on her but blank; empty. Evelyn took a few seconds to calm her racing heart; to tell herself that he didn’t know what he was doing. Wincing and gasping for breath, she turned her body and twisted her arms into the position she needed and forced herself to wait. Somehow, through the urge to fight back, she knew that she had to let him see that even in this state, he couldn’t really hurt her. She’d seen her father get violent when his nightmares were bad; watched as her mother let him come out of them over and over again, before pushing him back, pinning him down, reminding him that she wouldn’t break; that he couldn’t break her. Now, she had to do the same thing for Cullen. 

“I’m no demon, Cullen,” she gasped even as his grip around her neck tightened. “It’s me, sweetheart. It’s Evelyn.”

“I will not be fooled!” He roared. Evelyn drew in three breaths, as long and deep as she could manage, and gently rested her hand on his arm. His eyes flickered down at her touch and then back to his eyes. His expression faltered. 

“I am your moon and you are my sun,” Evelyn gasped, hoping the words would pull him out of his nightmare the way they had for her at Adamant. “It’s me, Cullen, your Evelyn. You were having a nightmare.”

She waited until recognition flashed in his eyes and his grip loosened. Then, she snaked her hands up between his arms and slammed them down, breaking his grip. She pushed one leg through Cullen’s, hooked it around him and pushed him back, sweeping his legs out from under him. 

Cullen let go of her throat as they tumbled to the ground. He landed with a grunt, Evelyn on top. They lay there for a few seconds, breathing heavily, Evelyn sucking down air greedily. Cullen stared at her, eyes wide, mouth open. 

“Oh no,” he finally groaned, his eyes falling to Evelyn’s neck, which was surely bruising by now. "Maker, forgive me. Ev, I…”

Cullen’s voice caught. Evelyn rolled off of him and pulled her commander into a sitting position. He refused to look at her, covering his face with his hands. 

“It’s okay, Cullen. I’m okay.” She gently pulled his hands away from her face, her heart clenching when she saw tears in his eyes. 

“I hurt you,” he rasped, eyes falling to her neck again. “I left...bruises on you. Like him. I hurt you like he did.”

“No,” Evelyn said sternly, just as much for him as for her. “Not like him. Nothing like him. You were confused, stuck in a dream. It’s not your fault.”

Cullen grasped her hand, his body racked with shivers. He closed his eyes and shook his head. 

“I should go,’ he whispered. After all that, it was that phrase that made panic claw at her. If she let him pull away now, she may never get him back. He’d get all noble, believing he was protecting her. And she knew him well enough to know, if he was convicted enough, she would never break through that. The thought made it hard to breathe again; the idea of living without him made her gasp for air. She shook her head vigorously as he continued. “I shouldn’t be around you. I can’t...if I hurt you, I could never forgive myself.

“Cullen, look at me.” Evelyn took his face in her hands and forced her voice to be even and strong. “I was fine. I could have gotten away at any point. You can’t break me, Cullen Rutherford.”

For a moment, she didn’t think he was going to listen. Her stomach twisted into knots, nausea rolling through her and she tried desperately to pull up more arguments. But then Cullen let out a long, shuddering breath and leaned into Evelyn’s chest. She wrapped her arms around him, pressing him further into her embrace. They sat like that for a long time, just holding one another. Finally, Evelyn convinced Cullen to get back into bed. When he’d fallen asleep again, she slipped out of her room to get the bruise on her neck taken care of. 

 

“I’m surprised he even got the drop on you, Boss.”

Evelyn glanced up at Bull while Dorian gently examined her neck. Bull had tied a bed sheet around his wide waist. Dorian, at least, had pulled on his silk smalls. Neither one of them had questioned her when she woke them up in the middle of the night and she loved them for that.

“He didn’t,” she said. “Not really. I just didn’t want to fight him while he thought I was a desire demon.”

“Probably for the best.” Dorian covered the growing bruise on her neck with his hand. “Give me a minute, love. Healing is not my forte.”

“And you’re sure you’re alright?” Bull’s voice echoed in his small room.

“I’m fine. I’m just...worried. The things he told me…”Evelyn trailed off. It wasn’t her place to tell them about what happened at Kinloch. “Let’s just say it made the Fade sound like a stroll through the garden. He’s scared he’s going to hurt me. I’m worried he’s going to pull away; put distance between us.”

“Perhaps it’s not the worse idea,” Dorian said quietly. Evelyn glared at him. 

“And would you leave Bull if he were suffering like this? Even if it may hurt you?” She demanded. Dorian squared his shoulders, careful not to look at his Qunari lover. 

“Never,” he said quietly. Evelyn watched Bull’s expression shift into something soft and sweet and despite being irritated at Dorian’s suggestion, she smiled. 

“Then drop it,” she said, looking back at the mage. 

“Sorry, dear,” he drawled. “I am feeling particularly protective, is all.”

“Boss doesn’t need our protection,” Bull said. “She can hold her own.”

Dorian sighed and pulled his hand away from Evelyn’s neck. She turned and flexed it, sighing with relief when there was no pain or tenderness. Dorian raised an eyebrow and Evelyn nodded. The mage smiled at her and pressed a quick kiss to her temple. 

“If only Cullen could see that,” Evelyn mumbled. Then immediately regretted it when Bull’s eyes lit up. “Ugh, I know that look.”

“You two should have a tumble,” he said. Dorian sighed.

“I hardly think sex will fix this. Sadly. He's probably too afraid to even touch me right now.”

“No,” Bull corrected. “A sparring match. Boss and Curly have never gone at each other in the ring. You beat him and it’s all good.”

“Why must you continually solve problems with violence?” Dorian sighed and fell back into bed. But Evelyn kept her eyes on Bull, rolling the idea over in her mind. Dorian must have noticed because he groaned. “You two are hopeless.”

“What if he beats me?” She asked. Bull shrugged. 

“Even if he does, you’ll last for quite a while. He’ll have to see you can handle yourself, even against him. He doesn’t get to see you on the battlefield; he doesn’t know how good you.” Bull sauntered back to the bed and lay down next to Dorian. Evelyn smiled when the mage rolled himself into the Qunari’s side. Damn it all if they weren't adorable. 

“He won’t go for it if I make the suggestions,” she said. “Especially after tonight.”

“Let us handle it,” Bull said. “As soon as he’s feeling better, we’ll get him into the ring.” 

Evelyn nodded and then looked at Dorian. The mage looked back and forth between his lover and his best friend and finally let out an exasperated sigh. 

“Yes, yes, you brutes.  _ We  _ will help - I’m in.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the Cullen-waking-in-a-nightmare-and-hurting-the-inquisitor thing has been done lots of times but something about it always gets me. So, sorry not sorry.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn, Bull and Dorian's plot to show Cullen can't break Evelyn comes together.

The mountain wind blew through his hair, cooling the heat that rolled through his body. Even three days later, he still felt warm, though the shaking and weakness had finally left him. Evelyn stood in front of him in the battlements, eyes studying him. He’d been avoiding her for the last day. The bruises on her neck were gone but the memory of coming to with his hand around her throat still made him sick. 

“For what it’s worth, I like the man you are now,” she spoke quietly, her voice and gaze steady. Cullen’s chest tightened. 

“Even after…”He couldn’t say the words; couldn’t talk about what he’d done to her. She was supposed to be safe with him. After growing up manipulated and abused, he was supposed to be her safe place. If he couldn’t provide that for her…

“Cullen, I care about you.” Evelyn’s voice cut into his thoughts. She moved to him and slipped her arms around his waist. “You’ve done nothing,  _ nothing, _ to change that.”

Her bright blue eyes gazed up at him. He wanted to believe her; wanted to let it go. But he couldn’t stop remember his hand around her throat. 

“Evelyn, I just…”

She rose up and captures his lips with hers. Cullen felt himself lean into her kiss. Maker, the things she did to him. When she pulled away, he was breathless. Evelyn touched her hand to his cheek. 

“You should know, no matter what you say, no matter what you’ve done, no matter who you were, I’m still going to love you.” She smiled at him but didn’t let him respond. “I have to go do Inquisitor things. I’ll see you later.”

Cullen watched Evelyn walk away, her hips swaying side to side. He would never figure out what he’d done to deserve that woman.

 

\----------------------------------

 

Cullen watched Evelyn hit Bull with a stick, shaking his head. Bull growled every time a blow landed. The skin on his stomach was red and inflamed. And Evelyn, she just laughed. 

“Look at out brutes,” Dorian appeared at his side. “Always going at each other like beating one another will solve all their problems.”

“They do this frequently?” Cullen shook his head. “I’ve never seen them spar.”

“Evelyn uses her time here to spar with Heir. But when we’re on the road, these two idiots beat each other black and blue.”

“Each other?” Cullen watched Evelyn hit Bull again. There was no way Evelyn could be an even match  for Bull. 

“Oh yes. Your girl is deceptively tough. I’d say she get shim nearly half the time.”

“No way,” Cullen said. 

“Doubting your girl, Commander?” Dorian smirked up at him. 

“What? I...no, but, I mean, I’ve sparred with Bull,” Cullen sputtered. “I just can’t imagine how she can...withstand him.”

“Oh, Commander, she can withstand more than you believe. Perhaps you can convince them to have a go.”

“Have a go at what?” Bull stomped over to hem, his stomach covered in bruises. Behind him, Evelyn was making her way towards the practice ring. 

“Our Commander is having a difficult time believing the Inquisitor can hold her own against The Iron Bull,” Dorian saddled up to his lover. “I suggested he watch the two of you go a round.” 

“Boss has the ring for the next bell,” Bull said. “And I”ve got to go run drills with The Chargers, but maybe Curly can have a go at her. Get her all hot and sweaty and worked up, then take her to bed.”

Cullen felt himself blush at Bull’s suggestion. Just barely. Because it excited him more than it embarrassed him. 

“You expect me to believe she’d enjoy that,” Cullen scoffed, preparing himself for the joke that was inevitably coming. 

“Oh believe it,” Bull said, his eyes dancing. “Your girl would like nothing more than to roll around with you in the ring and then roll around in the sheets.”

“Ugh, really Bull.” Dorian slid in front of the massive Qunari. “What the Bull is so un-eloquently suggesting is that perhaps it would put your mind at ease to see how the Lady Inquisitor truly handles herself on the battlefield. So you are not so worried when she’s traveling, or in...other circumstances.”

Cullen glanced past the two men at the training ring where Evelyn was twisting and turning around Heir. He had to admit the two men had peaked his curiosity, in more ways than one. 

“Think about it, Cullen,” Bull insisted. “Did she really only take you down because you came to? Or did she let you come to before she took you out.” If he thought about it, Evelyn had taken him down quickly and easily that night. And he wanted to see how Evelyn could possibly take on Bull. Perhaps he wanted to see what she’d meant when she’d said he couldn’t break her. 

Just a few minutes later, Cullen found himself on one side of the training ring, sword and shield in hand, Evelyn grinning at him from across the way. Somehow he’d agreed to barbaric terms - real blades, real blood to be healed if the injury was too serious - until one of them yielded. The only person Cullen know to be more stubborn than himself was Evelyn. If she was as good as her companions said she was, it was going to be a long match. 

Cullen allowed Evelyn to charge first, gauging her attacks. She was fast - faster than he had anticipated - and stronger. Twisting and dancing around him, she dodged his shield and blocked his blows easily. He’d barely broken a sweat before he had several nicks and cuts on his body, all carefully placed for him to know that, hand this been a real battle, he’d be dead already. Or close to it.

Evelyn pulled away from him and leaned against the fence across the ring. 

“Need a healer, Commander?” She smirked. There was no a single bruise or cut on her. “We’ll call it a warm-up.”

Cullen felt his irritation begin to bubble. He did not like losing. To anyone. A crowd was beginning to form and he could see Varric taking bets. Leliana stood behind Evelyn, her grin nearly identical to the Inquisitor's. Maker, those two were trouble. Josephine was just a bit further back, slipping Varric a bag of coins. Cullen turned around to look at Bull and Dorian. 

“Why do I get the feeling this sparring match was far from spontaneous?” he growled. Bull’s face was unreadable but Dorian’s told him all he needed to know. It had been Evelyn’s idea. “Why all the scheming? Why not just ask?”

“Would you have said yes after what happened the other night?” Bull pinned Cullen to the spot with his gaze.He wouldn’t have agreed; not if it meant hurting her again, but it still didn’t understand the desire for this match. “She wants you to see, to understand, that you don’t have to be concerned about hurting her.”

“Physically, at least,” Dorian picked up where his lover left off. They were doing that more often. “We wouldn’t support this if we didn’t know she could withstand you. And don’t be a gentleman about it all or she’ll flay you in front of your men.”

Cullen looked back at Evelyn, who was watching him lazily. Despite everything these two were saying, he still wasn’t sure if he could take the risk of hurting her.

“She’s a warrior, Cullen,” Bull spoke quietly like he knew exactly what Cullen was thinking. Damned Ben Hassrath training. “She’s got scars from battles, just like you and me; just like Cass and Rylen and Blackwall. Don’t do her the disrespect of being treated any differently than them. She’s earned the right to be your equal. So treat her that way.”

Cullen hated that Bull always knew what needed to said; how the spy read his emotions like a he was an open book. He was also thankful the Qunari had become such a good friend; a friend that Cullen desperately needed. So he nodded. Across the way, Evelyn arched an eyebrow at the motion but didn’t make any other movement.

“That’s a good man,” Dorian said. “I’d lose the shield, though - too big and slow. She’ll destroy you.”

He mulled over Dorian’s words for a moment, trying to decide if he was really going to do this. Bull was right, as was Dorian, and he knew how important it was to Evelyn that she not be seen as fragile or weak. He, of all people, must be the one to see her as strong and capable; as a warrior; as an equal. 

“Bull, two short swords,” Cullen said, setting down his shield and sword and leaned them against the fence. Bull somehow managed to produce two swords almost immediately, probably supplied from one of the Chargers who had gathered behind their leader. The same Chargers that Bull was supposed to be training right now. He shook his head as the scheming that had happened to get him to this point. 

When he turned back to face Evely, her eyes were wide with surprise. Cullen tested the weight and balance of his new weapons. Two handed fighting was certainly not his specialty but he was always prepared to fight any way he must. As Evelyn watched, a smile spread across her face, eyes alight with a devious sparkle. When Cullen was ready, he stepped forward. 

“Inquisitor.” He kept his voice low and detached. Thinking of her as Evelyn would only make this more difficult for him. Her smiled widened and she nodded her acknowledgment as she too, stepped forward. 

“Commander,” she said. Her voice, her using his title sent a shiver down his spine that he quickly had to dampen. Something to remember for a later time. Now, he had a sparring match to win.

He charged first this time, hoping to keep her on her toes. The strategy was successful, if only for a  few minutes as Evelyn adjusted to his new fighting style. Then she came at him, turning the tide.

And so they went, back and forth, for Cullen didn’t know how long. He was vaguely aware of the crowd outside the ring growing - staff, soldiers, nobles, all coming to watch the Commander and the Inquisitor of the Inquisition. Evelyn was good, one of the best he’d ever fought over the years. She read him incredibly well, anticipating and responding so quickly that Cullen had to switch his approach every few minutes. And every time he thought he hand her figured out, she’d change her tactics, throwing in new moves, charging when she should withdraw, withdrawing when she should charge. They stopped twice to heal wounds. Both of them were dripping with sweat, gasping for air, grinning at one another. Cullen hadn’t had this much fun in ages. 

He could tell the end of the fight was drawing near. They were hitting harder, faster, trying to finish the other off. It was desperate fighting. They were both exhausted but neither one was willing to relent. He could hear Evelyn’s ragged breathing whenever she got near him; could feel his muscles tightening up, growing sluggish.

Evelyn came at him again, feinting to his right, then coming at his left side - the side he usually carried his shield. He was slower on that side and she knew it. So instead of blocking the blow, Cullen dodged, shot out his elbow hitting her wrist in just the right spot, causing the dagger to slip from fingers that were likely tingly and numb. Just as he thought he had her, she changed direction, flipping backward away from him. As she went over, her leg shot up, connecting with the pommel of the sword in his left hand. Cullen gaped as the weapon was driven from his grip, spinning through the air. 

The crowd roared as Evelyn landed on her feet, backing away from him. Cullen shook his head when she smiled. It was a good move; good, but not good enough. They each had only one weapon now, but Cullen was used to using one sword when Evelyn was not. The advantage was finally his. 

Evelyn must have realized the same thing, because before he knew what was happening, Evelyn was running full speed at him. Cullen quickly tightened his grip on the sword, ready for the flurry of blows that was guaranteed to come, when she dropped to the ground. All he could do was watch in stunned surprise as she slid over the dirt, legs stretched out in front of her. Then, she buried the blade of her dagger in the ground, using it to swing herself towards him. 

Evelyn’s legs caught his and he went down. He let go of his sword, trying to catch himself. The impact drove the air from his lungs. Evelyn pounced, trying to pin him to the ground. Cullen hooked an arm across the front of her shoulders and shoved her off. 

They rolled around in the dirt. Evelyn landed a kick to his ribs; he got her jaw with the back of a hand. For a moment, he thought he finally had her pinned, but she twisted out of his grip and swung herself over his shoulders. Pulling him to the ground on top of her, she entangled herself around him - arms hooked under his armpits and up; hands clasped together behind his neck; legs around his waist, feet hooked behind his knees, all pulling.

Cullen couldn’t move. He twisted and turned with all his strength but Evenly had the leverage. He could feel her panting, her breath tickling the side of his neck. The crowd was silent, watching the Commander splayed on the ground by their Inquisitor. 

“I told you, you can’t break me, Cullen Rutherford,” she whispered against his neck, her lips brushing against his hot skin. Then louder, “Yield, Commander.”

Cullen couldn’t believe it. Even after everything her friends - his friends - had said, he’d never believed she could defeat him. He couldn’t stop the laugh that bubbled up in his throat.

“I yield, Inquisitor,” he chuckled. “I yield.”

The crowd erupted as Evelyn released her hold on him. Cullen rolled off and collapsed in the dirt beside her. The two of them lay there, side by side for several moments before Cullen looked at her. Evelyn was studying him, a hesitant grin on her lips. 

“Where did you learn to fight like that,” He asked. Evelyn laughed. 

“I had five older brothers, Cullen. You learn early how to hold your own.” Evelyn still gasped for air, her chest rising and falling, the fabric of her shirt clinging to her body. Her cheeks were flushed, pieces of hair clinging to her face, eyes twinkling, her dimple deep. She was absolutely stunning.

Cullen pushed himself up on her elbow and leaned over Evelyn. The twinkle in her eyes shifted to a look of hunger. Unable to stop himself, he leaned in and kissed her.

It was meant to be chaste, but Evelyn moaned low in her throat and turned into him, fisting her hand into his shirt. He heard several hoots and whistles in the crown as Evelyn slipped her tongue past his lips. Cullen allowed himself to enjoy it for a few moments before pulling away, lest he start rutting her here, in front of all Skyhold. When he opened his eyes, Evelyn smiled up at him. 

“You’re incredible,” he said quietly. If possible, Evelyn’s smile grew wider. “Consider your point made, Inquisitor.”

Beneath him, he felt her shudder. 

“I like it when you call me that,” she whispered, her voice husky. Cullen bit back a groan, the knowledge sending a jolt of desire to his groin. 

“I do hate to interrupt but I require the Inquisitor.” Leliana’s lilting voice broke the building tension. Evelyn moaned and tilted her head back to look up at her friend. 

“Leli,” she protested. The Spymaster chuckled. 

“Give me a few hours and I’ll ensure the rest of you evening and all day tomorrow is free.”

Evelyn glanced from Leliana to Cull, contemplating the possibilities. Cullen quickly ran through his day tomorrow to determine if he could clear his schedule. 

“I’ll move things around,” he said, his heart pounding. All night and all day with her. He’d do any amount of favors to give someone else his duties for the day. 

“Good,” Evelyn breathed. “I’ll order a late dinner for your office?”

“Sounds, perfect,” Cullen agreed. Evelyn bit her lip and glanced back up at Leliana. 

“Give me time to freshen up,” she said. “I’ll meet you in the tower.”

Cullen pushed himself to his feet and then helped Evelyn up. She kissed him quickly on the cheek and then hurried for the castle. He watched her for a minute before heading to find Rawlin and Cassandra to arrange coverage for his day tomorrow, but not before nodding to Bull and Dorian. He still couldn’t believe those two had been right, but he was thankful all the same. 


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Time. Ahhhh, yeah ;)

Evelyn watched the drawf woman make her way to the main door and then glanced back at Varric. He watched her go wistfully, refusing to meet Evelyn’s gaze.

“Bianca?” Evelyn asked. “I’ve let it go until now, but...you named your crossbow after  _ her _ ?”

“Listen, Raven, it’s...complicated.” Varric sighed and rubbed a hand across his face. Evelyn didn’t like the effect that woman had on her friend; didn't like that she'd chosen someone else over Varric; didn't like the look of despair on Varric's face as she walked away. “I know that look. Don’t get your smalls in a bunch. It ain’t worth it. What’s done is done.” 

Evelyn worked her jaw for a moment, studying Varic. 

“Fine, I’ll let it go,” she said, making him chuckle. “But for the record, it’s her loss.”

Varric looked up at her, surprise melting into a warm smile. Evelyn leaned over and kissed his cheek. 

“Love you, Drawf,” she said, earning another chuckle. 

“Get out of here, woman,” he pushed her off playfully. Evelyn winked at him as she ducked through the door to Solas’s rotunda. The elf was curled up on his sofa against the back wall, no doubt wondering the Fade. She tiptoed over to him and pulled his blanket up a little higher on his shoulders. It got cold in here at night with no fireplace. Then she crept to the door leading to the walkway. 

Stepping into the cool night air, she suddenly wished she’d worn her cloak. Night had fallen while she was with Leliana and snowflakes were floating down. By the time she slipped into Cullen’s office, her hair had collected a light layer of snow. 

Evelyn leaned against the wall just inside the door and watched Cullen run his meeting. He leaned over his desk, armor shining in the candlelight, brow pulled tight in concentration. She loved watching him with his men - confident, sure, unwavering, commanding. His low, rough voice echoed off the stone walls, sending a shiver down her spine.  She let her eyes run over his face, tracing his jawline, the scar on his lip, down his neck. Maker, she wanted to run her tongue down his neck, kissing, biting. She shuddered again, a smile on her lips. 

“Rylen’s men will monitor the situation…”Cullen looked up as he spoke, his words traveling off when his eyes met hers. Evelyn’s heart raced under her gaze; golden and warm; day to her night. Emotion swelled in her chest, nearly suffocating her and Cullen’s mouth turned in a small smile. “That’s all for now.”

Evelyn’s heart pounded in her chest as Cullen ushered his men out. She ached to touch him, to kiss him, to melt into him. Desire curled in her stomach. When Cullen finally closed the door, it was all she could do not to leap onto him.

“It’s always something else isn’t it?” He mumbled, pushing himself back from the door and looking at her. 

“Long day?” Evelyn teased. Cullen glanced sideways with a smirk. 

“I shouldn’t complain,” he winked, but he grew serious quickly. He turned and wandered back into the office. “This war won’t last forever. When it started, I hadn’t considered much beyond our survival. But things are different now.”

“What do you mean?” Evelyn pushed herself off the wall and followed Cullen. He turned and looked at her, his eyes locked on hers, warm and sweet. “I find myself wondering what will happen after. When this is all over, I won’t want to move on...not from you.”

Evelyn’s heart lodged in her throat. Or her stomach. she couldn’t tell, except her body was overwhelmed. She’d never allowed herself to dream of a future - even before the Conclave. It was one day, one mission at a time. Staying one step ahead of her brother while still trying to uphold the legacy of the Raven Knight for her mother. She’d never felt this way - so much was tangled up, there were times she couldn’t breathe; times when she looked at the man now standing in front of her, she was sure she would burst. And suddenly, not only did she dream of a future, she wanted it; would fight for it; for him. 

“But I don’t know what you...that is, if you, ah…”

Evelyn cursed herself for waiting so long to respond; for allowing Cullen to ever doubt. With a quick movement, she slid between him and the desk. She had to show him. She had to remove any doubts from his mind about what she wanted. 

“Cullen,” she breathed, her heart still racing. “Do you really need to ask?”

She smiled as the tension melted from his face and her knees went weak at the tenderness she saw there. Her eyes flicked to his lips when he started speaking. Maker, she wanted those lips on hers. 

“I want….”

Evelyn adjusted her body, trying to angle herself closer to him, but instead, her elbow knocked a half-empty bottle of wine off the desk. The sound of shattering glass cut Cullen off. Their gazes met. His eyes went dark with desire and Evelyn felt heat catch in her belly. She struggled to breathe as Cullen clenched his hand at his side. 

Just when Evelyn thought she couldn’t take the tension for another moment, Cullen reached behind her and unceremoniously pushed everything off the desk. Evelyn’s mouth dropped open as inkwells, books and papers went flying across the office but her eyes never left Cullen’s, his sudden abandonment of control stoking the fire rolling through her veins. 

Then his mouth was on hers and all reasonable thought left her.  It was just lips and tongue and grasping hands as Cullen lifted her onto the desk and lay her back. Her heart raced, her skin burned with his touch as he climbed onto the desk with her. Evelyn hooked her fingers between his armor, pulling desperately at the buckles. She had to get her hands on him - trace her fingers over his scars, the muscles she knew hid under his plates. Her progress slowed when Cullen kissed his way down her neck, sending shivers down her spine. 

A groan escaped her lips when he shifted his weight over her, pressing his clothed erection into her. Cullen pulled away, his eyes finding hers, his breath ragged. He was looking for permission, Evelyn realized. She paused, the weight of the moment pressing on her. She’d known early on what it would mean when she slept with Cullen;  that their connection was deeper, more than she’d ever experienced. Now that it was here, it was like jumping off a cliff into the unknown. but Cullen just waited. 

Maker, she loved this man. Loved him more than life itself. She’d jump and trust him to catch her. 

She pushed herself up on her elbows and met his lips, pouring all of her emotions into the kiss. Cullen’s arms were instantly around her, gathering her into him. She slipped her hands into his hair, pulling him as close as she could. It wasn’t close enough. She could never be close enough. 

“Cullen,” she gasped into him. “Armor. Please.”

Though she couldn’t form a full sentence, Cullen clearly understood. With a groan, he pulled away from her, starting to remove his armor before he was even standing. Unable to stay away from him, Evelyn sat up, wrapping her legs around his waist. Honey eyes met hers, the intensity in them making her shudder. Metal armor clanged on the stone floor as Cullen undressed, his eyes never leaving hers. 

Breath caught in her throat when he finally pulled off his linen shirt, dressed only in his leathers. Andraste save her, his body was even better than she imagined; trimmed and smooth, scars scattered over skin stretched taut over muscle. His broad shoulders narrowed down into a trim, muscled stomach. Evelyn bit her lip and leaned forward, tracing her fingers over the soft skin. She glanced up to Cullen watching her, a smug grin on his lips. Evelyn smiled back as she allowed her fingers to trace down the v-muscles along his hips, leading down to his clearly hard manhood. Cullen’s smile disappeared, his mouth dropping open, eyes fluttering shut as his head dropped back. 

Evelyn slipped her fingers of one hand under the waistband of his pants, trailing her fingernails along his skin. Cullen let out a long, low groan and he was on her again, invading her mouth, pressing his body into hers. He pulled at her blouse and then her pants and finally, her breast band. 

Needy, calloused fingers captured her breasts and Evelyn moaned. She arched into his touch, dropping her head back only to feel his lips on the sensitive skin there. Sensations assaulted her - Cullen’s hands kneading her breasts, rolling her nipples; his lips and tongue and teeth on her neck; his hard and large - Maker help her, was he big - erection grinding against her core. 

Evelyn finally managed to unlace Cullen’s trousers and yanked them down just enough for him to spring free of his pants. She ran her fingers along the smooth skin of his length, shuddering at the idea of it inside her even as Cullen moaned at her touch. 

“Evelyn,” Cullen breathed something between a warning and begging. She responded by wrapping her hand around him and rubbing him up and down once. Cullen bucked into her grip. “Fuuuuuck.”

Desire shot through Evelyn and she used her free hand to reach up and pull his face to hers. She kissed him with need - deep and unbridled. They moaned into one another and Cullen let his hands slide down her waist and pull at her smalls. Evelyn lifted her hips to allow him to pull them down, whimpering when he pulled away from her, even for just a moment. When he came back she immediately lifted her feet, hooking her toes into either side of his loose leathers and pulled them off his hips. 

Cullen stepped out of his pants when the pooled at his feet, his eyes melting her even as she grasped his erection again. He closed his eyes for just a moment and then opened them again, gently taking her wrist in his hands. 

“Ev…” He started, working his jaw in a clear effort to maintain his control. Maker, she loved it when he called her that. It was such a break in his normal formality. It was so familiar, so warm. “Are you...are you certain you’re ready?”

Evelyn let go of his cock and took his face in her hands, searching his eyes. She ran a thumb over his bottom lip, marveling at the way the skin pulled under her touch. She wanted to tell him that she’d never been so ready for anything; never so ready to jump, to fall. She wanted to tell him how much she loved him; how he’d changed her life; changed her, made her a better person, stronger. But there would never be words good enough. Words could never convey all the things she felt for him. 

“I love you,” she whispered. “So much, it terrifies me sometimes, but I’ve never wanted anything so much. Cullen, I need you. I need you inside….”

He cut her off with a kiss, breathy and needy. One hand slid down her spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake, settling on the small on her back. The other, she could feel grasping his cock between them, guiding it to her entrance. Evelyn moaned as he rubbed the head in her heat, slicking it. 

“I love you,” he whispered through the kiss and then pushed into her in one, long, measured move. Evelyn arched into him, her toes curling as he filled her up. She wrapped her arms around his waist and dug her fingers into him pulling him closer. “Fuck, Evelyn, you feel so good.”

They were the only words spoken. Cullen slowly pulled back out, Evelyn’s whine turned into a moan when he pressed back in. Her body sang with pleasure. Cullen set a rhythm quick but through, filling and stretching her with every thrust. Evelyn could do nothing but clutch him as tightly to her as she could. The only sounds in the room were their pants and gasps and moans and the slap of their skin. 

Evelyn felt her climax coming. It was soon; too soon. She hadn’t had enough of him. Not nearly enough. Yet she didn’t want to slow down, not now. 

She opened her eyes to find Cullen’s already on her. They were hazy and black with desire. His jaw was locked in concentration and Evelyn realized he was already holding his own climax back, waiting for her. 

Any resolve to hold out shattered with that look. They had all night - all day tomorrow. They could go slow then. Evelyn slid her hands up his back, weaving them into his curls and pulled his forehead down to meet hers. They never broke eye contact, words not needing to pass between them for Evelyn to understand him; to feel the love he felt; to know this was it for both of them. There would never be anyone else. 

Evelyn screamed when her orgasm hit, falling back, arching away from Cullen as it racked her body. The waves of pleasure ransacked her body, leaving her breathless. Cullen’s hand at her back was the only thing that kept her upright. 

Then he was shouting, his hips bucking against her wildly and she felt his warm seed inside her. She forced her eyes open to watch him and shuddered when she saw his head thrown back, his muscles taut, his mouth still roaring her name. 

When his hips slowed, Evelyn pulled herself up and peppered his chest with kisses. Broad, strong arms enveloped her and he gently pulled out of her. Evelyn shivered at the loss, tilting her head up to look at her Commander. The eyes that met hers were so full of love it made her shake.

“Maker, I love you,” Cullen whispered. The only response Evelyn could muster at the moment was a kiss - soft and sweet. Cullen cupped the back of her head with his hand and sighed into her. When they pulled apart, he smiled at her. “I brought dinner upstairs. Join me?”

She just nodded and then squealed when Cullen abruptly hoisted her off the desk. Evelyn was positively sure no one had ever coaxed that sound out of her, but she didn't care. He could have that sound from her. Laughing at her, he carried her towards the ladder. Evelyn wrapped her legs around him, pressing herself against his chest as he pulled them up the rungs.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More smut #sorrynotsorry :)

They never got to the food Evelyn’s body pressed to his, legs wrapped around his waist, hot center pressed to him was far too distracting. Evelyn’s heat slid against his hardening dick. A wicked smile flashed across her face and she rolled her hips, biting her lip, closing her eyes and shuddering. A rumble grew in Cullen’s chest at the combination of Evelyn’s movement and the wanton expression on his face. 

Her eyes fluttered back open as Cullen lay her down on the bed. She smiled up at him and he thought for sure his heart was going to jump out of his chest. When he leaned in to kiss her, she arched into him, her skin hot and soft against his. Evelyn moaned into the kiss, fingertips digging into his back, pulling him closer to her. 

Cullen pulled away from the kiss and moved down her jaw and neck. Evelyn sighed and gasped as he went. He lost himself in the taste and scent and sound of her. Fingernails dug into his back ran through his hair, scraped down his arms. Cullen kissed and nipped down her body until he reached her heat.

He glanced up to meet her eyes, to ask permission, to find her gaze already on him, eyes dark with desire. Cullen groaned at her expression - hungary, almost predatory. The strangled cry that erupted from her when he ran the flat of his tongue along her lower lips made his manhood twitch with need. He drove his hips down in the the mattress for just a brief moment of relief. 

Cullen pulled his focus back to Evelyn. Downstairs had been amazing, needed after months of wanting and waiting, but now he wanted to take his time. He wanted to discover the spots that made her gasp and shuddered; to drive her wild, until she cried out his name. 

Evelyn twisted and shuddered underneath him, her gasps loud and desperate. Her fingers sank into his hair again, nails scraping across his scalp, sending jolts of desire to his cock. Cullen hooked one arm over her hips, pinning her to the bed and used his other hand to slide a finger into her.

“Oh, fuck,” Evelyn gasped, her fingers tightening in his hair until it was just barely on the good side of painful. Cullen hooked his finger forward, searching for her spot, grinning against her thigh when a high-pitched whine told him he’d found it. 

He looked up to see Evelyn - Inquisitor, Herald, Knight, Lady - arched up off the bed, chest heaving as she panted, open and pliant for him. A wave of violent possessiveness and desire rolled through him. He growled, sealing his lips over her clit and sliding another finger into her. 

“Come for me, Ev,” he said against her thigh, his voice in the low, rough timber he knew drove her crazy. A sob escaped her, her walls clenching his fingers and her body went rigid. Cullen continued to work her through his orgasm, entirely convinced he’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life. 

When Evelyn’s body finally began to relax, Cullen pulled out of her, wiping his fingers on the sheets and kissed his way back up her body. Scars from years of fighting peppered her body, glowing silver in the moonlight. She groaned when he licked each nipple on his way up. Her eyes flickered open when he brushed his lips over hers. 

“Mmmm,” she breathed. “Did you learn how to do that the same place you learned how to give foot massages.?”

Cullen chuckled, kissing and nipping his way down her neck. Evelyn’s breath caught when he bit down on the juncture of her neck and shoulder. 

“I’ll never reveal my secrets,” he murmured. A moan was his only response and long, strong fingers sunk into his hair. He continued across her collarbone to the other side of her neck, fingers playing over her nipples. Evelyn arched into him, spreading her legs until he was settled between them. Her heat, slick and warm, sent desire straight to his cock. when she rolled against him, he thought he might explode. 

“Cullen,” Evelyn gasped. “Please.”

She leaned up and latched her teeth onto his shoulder. A groan escaped him as he lined himself up and plunged into her. He dropped his head to her shoulder, breath caught in his throat. He didn’t think it was possible for anything to feel better than the first time he was in her, but he was wrong. This time...this time it was more real. She was in his bed, eyes locked on his, arms pulling him closer, deeper. 

His skin burned and tingled where she was pressed against her, where her hands trailed down his back, where her fingers dug into his ass as he pounded into her. Cullen let her noises - moans and gasps and whines - wash over him, slipping his hands under her waist and lifting her hips so he could go deeper. 

“Oh, f uck!” Evelyn whimpered. “Fuck, Cullen.”

She shuddered under his touch. When her eyes fluttered open, they locked  on his, pupils blown wide. Evelyn’s chest heaved, her mouth dropped open and he felt his walls flutter around her. 

Cullen pressed his lips to hers, hard and desperate. Evelyn returned the kiss fiercely, sucking her lower lip into her mouth and biting it. He moaned her name into her mouth. 

He could feel himself losing control but he wanted her to come again; wanted to feel her clenched around her. So he propped himself up on one arm and reached the other down to where they met. Evelyn’s eyes lit with anticipation and he almost came at how hungry she looked. Her eyes snapped shut and she wailed he pressed his fingers to her. 

A moment later, she cried out again - half screaming, half sobbing - her inner walls squeezing around him. Stars flashed across his vision as he watched Evelyn squirm and shudder underneath him. His shout joined her cries as he came, until he collapsed on top of her. 

When his senses came back to him, he was still laying on top of Evelyn. He lifted his head to find her blue eyes watching him. Her face shimmered with a layer of sweat, her hair tousled and messy, lips red and kiss swollen.

“Hey,” he said quietly. A smile spread across Evelyn’s face. 

“Hi,” she whispered. Still in a glow, Cullen reached up and brushed  some hair out of her face. 

“I love you,” he said. Her smile grew. 

“I love you, too.” She bit her lip and waited a moment before continuing. “Cullen?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m hungry.”


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Letters from Emprise Du Lion, sitting in judgment and an unwanted (and very unwelcome) surprise.

_Cullen -_

_There is something very wrong here. Civilians are disappearing for Sahrnia, there is red lyrium and Red Templars everywhere, the river is frozen completely over and yesterday we saw three - three - dragons flying overhead. And it’s cold - bone deep cold. If not for my cloak, I would be miserable._

_How are you doing? Are your headaches getting better? Are you getting enough rest? Don’t lie to me, Cullen Stanton. I will find out._

_I should get some rest. There is a keep here - elven, called Suledin Keep - that we intend to take. We must also track the source of the red lyrium here. I hope to find some information on Samsen for you._

_I love you and miss you._

_Always,_

_E.A. Trevlyan_

_____________________

 

_Evelyn -_

_I wish you would not worry about me in the field. I do not wish to be a distraction for you. But since I know you will worry anyway._

_I am not entirely well but I am doing better._

_The cook has lunch sent to my office every day (I suspect you have something to do with that). Leliana, Josephine or Rawling drag me to dinner every night (also your doing, I presume)._

_Sleep is difficult. The nightmares come and I miss having you next to me. I miss getting lost in your warmth and your scent. I miss you._

_I received the reports of your attack on the keep. A named demon, this Ismael, is deeply concerning. I am relieved that you, that everyone, came out of the fight relatively unharmed._

_Reports have also come in regarding the mine. It sounds very dangerous. Please be careful, Evelyn. If anything happened to you...._

_I do know how you detest the cold. I am glad the cloak is serving you well. There should be a package included with this letter. I hope it makes it better._

 

_I love you better. Be safe. Come home._

_Cullen_

 

____________________

 

Evelyn groaned when she opened the package and pulled out a pair of fur-lined, armored boots made of August Ram leather and silverite. The stitching and fur matched her cloak. A sigh escaped her lips when she slid them on.

“Oh, Cullen Stanton, you really outdid yourself this time,” she said. Dorian flopped down on the log next to her.

“Well aren’t you spoiled,” he said. Evelyn grinned at him.

“Jealous?” She asked. Before he could respond, Bull snorted from across the fire where he was cleaning his ax.

“I get you gifts all the time,” he mumbled, not looking up from his task. Dorian sighed.

“Not anything I can wear in public,” the mage grumbled.

“Oh, gross,” Evelyn shut her eyes and shook her head to get rid of the mage’s comment conjured. She pushed herself up. “I’m going to bed.”

“Sweet dreams of a handsome, blonde-haired commander, love,” Dorian twittered at her. Evelyn glanced over her shoulder, determined to get the last word in.

“That will be hard if you forget to soundproof your tent again tonight.”

Dorian’s face flushed bright red and his eyes grew wide. Evelyn ducked inside her tent, Bull’s laugh echoing behind her.

 

________________________

 

“Commander, have you seen the reports from Sahrina?” Leliana strode purposefully down the corridor. Her brow was pulled together in concern.

“I just finished with the recruits,” he said, shaking his head as Leliana fell into step next to him. Cullen pushed open the door to the War Room and held it open for the Spymaster. “Is everything alright?”

Leliana shook her head. On the far side of the room, Josephine looked up from her board, her face pale. Thankfully, Morrigan was absent. She tended to appear from meetings only if the Inquisitor was there.

“What’s happened?” Dread rolled over him. “Is Evelyn okay?”

“She...has a few injuries,” Leliana said slowly. “But she will be fine. They are returning to Skyhold so that she can recover. What is more concerning is what they found.”

Cullen was torn between relief and dread. Relief that, though injured, Evelyn was alright. Dread at the tone in Leliana’s voice.

“What is it?” He asked. “What is wrong?”

“The old mine in Sahrina, it became overrun with Red Lyrium. Mistress Poulin sold it to the Templars”

Cullen looked between the Ambassador and Spymaster confused.

“That seems like good news,” he said.

“The Red Templars have been stealing civilians,” Josephine whispered. “Kidnapping them and injecting them with red lyrium; experimenting on them.”

Cullen’s blood went cold and he shuddered involuntarily. And Mistress Poulin knew about it - allowed it to continue to happen. The Inquisitor is apparently….in quite the state over the situation.”

“Experiments? On Civilians?” Cullen echoed. He felt like he was going to be sick

“The Inquisitor and her party are due to arrive at sundown today,” Leliana said. “She has already asked that we schedule the trial for tomorrow morning. It may do her some good to...relax tonight.”

Cullen cleared his throat, feeling himself blush. But Leliana was right. So he nodded his consent. The spymaster smiled, just a bit, and then they turned their attention to the other matters on the agenda.

 

They drug themselves through the gates just before midnight. Evelyn swayed in the saddle, her body aching, sharp pain radiating from the cut on her left side and the broken ribs underneath the wound. The rest of her team wasn’t much better. Bull had a nasty gash on his leg, Solas had several broken ribs, Cassandra had a concussion. The others, who hadn’t gone down to the mine, were fatigued from doing the majority of the work on the road.

It was too late for the normal returning fanfare. Most of the Keep was asleep. Even her advisors, it would seem. Their usual spot on the steps was empty. Evelyn didn’t even try to slide off her horse until Blackwall came over to help.

“Easy there, My Lady,” he rumbled, wrapping strong arms around her. Try as he might though, he couldn’t get her down without jostling her injuries. Evelyn hissed as her friend lowered her to the ground. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, Blackwall,” Evelyn groaned, trying to get her breath back. After a few more moments pain still racked her body and she struggled to get her breath. “Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Blackwall agreed. “We need to get you a healer. Clinic or your chambers?”.

“Chambers,” Evelyn gasped.

“I’ll get you there and then bring a healer.”

She leaned heavily into the Warden’s side. Thankfully, there was no one to gawk at the Inquisitor as she hobbled along. The guards knew enough to not stare. Evelyn’s vision was beginning to blur when Blackwall pushed open her door. She stumbled, losing her balance and nearly taking Blackwall down with her.

There was a loud crash; Blackwall grumbled and Evelyn cried out when her side collided with the wall.

“Oh fuck!” Evelyn gasped, grabbing her side. “Fuck. Fuck.”

“Evelyn?” Cullen’s voice came from upstairs. She heard his padded footsteps cross the room as Blackwall helped pull her upright again. “Maker’s Breath, what happened?”

Evelyn glanced up to Cullen at the top of the stairs dressed in leathers and a loose linen shirt.

“Commander,” Blackwall grunted, guiding Evelyn back up the steps. “If you could take over for me, I will go fetch a healer.”

Evelyn focused on not losing consciousness as Cullen guided her to the bed. He helped her lay down and then began undressed her - pulling off her boots, then her pants and finally her shift. She heard him suck in a breath when he saw her injuries.

“Damn it, Evelyn. What in the Void were you thinking, traveling like this?” Cullen’s voice was low and growly. It was the same tone he used when he was angry at Jim. For some reason, that made Evelyn laugh. Which she immediately regretted. “Why did the healers in Emprise let you go?”

“It’s cute that you think the healers _let_ me do anything.”

“Evelyn.” Cullen was clearly not impressed by her attempt at humor.

“They couldn’t do anything else,” Evelyn explained. “Between the beating we took in the mine and the state of the civilians we rescued - the healers used all their mana and all the lyrium we had with us. Viv was so depleted she couldn’t even make the trip back. It was bad, Cullen.”

Cullen’s expression softened a bit as he helped adjust the blankets and pillows as Evelyn tried to get comfortable.

“What about potions?” He asked.

“I left whatever we had with the villagers. They had nothing. We all agreed that we could deal with a few days of pain if it helped them.”

“Of course you did,” he said softly, shaking his head. The healer arrived then and set to work while Cullen hovered in the background, scowling anytime Evelyn voiced her pain. By the time the young woman left, Cullen had nearly worn a hole in the carpet with his pacing and Evelyn was groggy from the concoctions the healer had poured down her throat.

Cullen climbed into bed and lay on his side. The lay facing one another, knees touching, noses only inches apart. Evelyn smiled as Cullen laced his fingers with hers.

“I must say, Lady Inquisitor, your current state has somewhat ruined my plans for this evening,” Cullen said, his smirk pulling at the scar on his lip.

“Is that so?” she asked. Cullen nodded. He reached up with his free hand and brushed the hair back from her face, running a finger down her jaw until she was shuddering.

“It is,” he confirmed. “Rumor had it that you were very upset about Mistress Poulin and everything that happened. Someone suggested I assist you in relaxing tonight. I had...plans.”

Despite her injuries and exhaustion, Evelyn shuddered again at the low, rough tone of Cullen’s words.

“Um,” she hummed. “That would have been nice but if Leliana doesn’t stay out of my sex life, I’m going to have to teach her a lesson.”

Cullen chuckled and shifted closer to her.

“How are you, really?” He asked, his warm eyes searching her face. “The reports from Emprise are concerning.”

Evelyn didn’t respond right away. The truth was, Emprise had shaken her to her core. The amount of red lyrium in the mind had made her very soul vibrate like it had in the alternate future in Redcliff. Even Solas had struggled, getting sick several times. When she’d confronted Mistress Poulin, the lyrium had still been singing in her veins - she’d almost killed the woman where she stood, she’d been so angry.  The memory still made her shake - how the violent anger had gripped her, driven her. It had scared her.

“Ev?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I’m so...angry at Mistress Poulin but, when it comes down to it, I don’t know if I’d have done anything differently. She had no way to fight back. They were cut off from the Empire, starving, cold. The Red Templars were a way to survive. Even after they started taking people, what was she to do?

“And I’m...frustrated they had to wait so long for aid. These are the kinds of things I’d be doing as the Raven Knight. I checked - I’d received intel about Sahrina months ago but I’ve been too busy. I didn’t even have time to read the reports. I could have prevented this, Cullen.”

His grip on her hand tightened.

“Perhaps,” he said softly. “If things were different. But you can’t be the Raven Knight and the Inquisitor and right now, we all need the Inquisitor.”

“I know,” Evelyn sighed. “But, there are people who need the Raven Knight too. The people that aren’t...big enough to draw the attention of the Inquisition. I just...I hate that I can’t be there for them too. I hate it.”

Evelyn felt her eyelids drooping even as she spoke. The healer must have snuck a sleeping draught into her. She heard Cullen sigh, felt him pull the blankets up around her shoulders and press a kiss to her forehead.

“Get some rest,” he said against her skin. “We’ll sort this all out in the morning.”

 

______________________

 

Evelyn continued to surprise him. She’d woke that morning, still sore and aching, but insisting on holding the trial for Mistress Poulin. Her expression during arguments had been stern and neutral. Cullen thought for sure she’d imprison the woman, or exile her. Instead, Evelyn ordered her back to Sahrina with the expectation the woman use all her profits from the sale of the mine to the Templars to rebuild the village. A wagon-load of supplies and support were given to aid her efforts.

As Mistress Poulin was led out of the main hall, the advisors approached the throne. Evelyn gingerly pushed herself out of her dragon maw. She still looked pale and worn. She needed to rest, to take the day off to recover. It would take help from Josephine and Leliana, but he’d have to find a way to make it work.

“I’m surprised, Inquisitor,” Leliana cooed, a single eyebrow raised. Evelyn snorted.

“It doesn’t do any good to punish the downtrodden even more,” Evelyn said. “I do not believe there was malice in her heart, only hopelessness, and fear. We’ll give her the chance to do the right thing and hope that she does.”

“It is truly good of you,” Josephine glowed. “The people will love the story. Such grace and compassion, Inquisitor.”

Evelyn snorted again and shook her head. She opened her mouth to respond when there was a commotion at the main door. A wave of whispers ran through the room. Cullen saw Evelyn pull her brow tight in confusion, just before all the color drained from her face.

Cullen followed her gaze until his eyes settled on a man standing just a few yards from the Inquisitor. He looked nearly identical to her - tall and slender, raven hair cut close to his head, cerulean eyes, a square jaw and thin lips. Behind him was another man - shorter and stockier but with the same olive skin tone, dark hair and the same gray eyes of Rawlin. They each wore finely crafted plate armor stamped with the Trevelyan family crest. Cullen was looking at the two eldest Trevelyn brothers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be a reference to past physical abuse in the next chapter. If you have triggers regarding this, you may want to skip. I'll provide a summary at the beginning of the following chapter.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruslan and Evelyn come to blows.
> 
> **WARNING**   
> There are references to past abuse and an actual act of abuse in this chapter. If you have triggers, please be careful. I'll include a chapter re-cap at the beginning on the next chapter to keep you up to speed if you skip.

“Ba - Bann Trevelyan, what a surprise!” Josephine was the first to recover, though Cullen could hear the tension in her voice. Her dark eyes darted between the Bann and the Inquisitor. Ruslan Trevelyan didn’t respond. He just stared at his sister, his thin lips pulled into a scowl, his eyes cold and hard. Evelyn stared back, jaw tightening, hands clenching at her side. The cold expression on her face mirrored that of her brother's.This was going to get very ugly, very fast. 

“Clear the room,” he whispered into Josephine’s ear. She looked up at him, wide-eyed. 

“I can’t do that,” she argued quietly. “The nobility…”

“Clear. The. Room, Josephine,” Cullen cut her off with a growl. The ambassador’s eyes grew wider and after a few moments hesitation, she nodded. Cullen glanced up at Dorian and Blackwall, motioning toward Josephine so they would help.

“Evelyn,” Ruslan said. Even his voice sounded cold and haughty. It scraped at Cullen’s nerves. 

“It is customary for guests of Skyhold to address the Lady Inquisitor by her title.” Leliana stepped from behind Evelyn to stand at her left side, her voice just as icy as Ruslan’s. Cullen moved into position at Evelyn’s right side, presenting the Bann with a united front. 

“How long has it been, Sister?” Ruslan ignored Leliana, his gaze still focused on Evelyn. Cullen glanced sideways at his lover to see her face schooled into neutrality. It was an expression he hadn’t seen in months - the coldness, the uncaring front. He hated seeing her retreat behind her walls. 

“A lifetime couldn’t be long enough, Ruslan,” she responded coolly. Cullen’s eyes swept the room. Josephine was just ushering the last of the nobility out of the hall as Blackwall pushed the doors closed. Solas walked the perimeter of the hall, checking the locks on the doors. Varric and Bull leaned against one of the long tables, their postures deceptively relaxed; Cullen watched each of them shift their weapons so they could be quickly drawn. Cassandra didn’t even bother to hide her hostility, standing on the opposite side of Bull and Varric, hand on her sword. Dorian and Blackwall stood by the main door, Sera perched on the side balcony over Cullen’s shoulder and he felt, more than saw, Vivienne watching from her balcony. “I can’t help but wonder what you've been doing with your time as of late. Tell me,  _ brother _ , what have you done without your favorite punching bag? Still fucking Arden’s wife?”

Ruslan’s expression turned stormy and behind him, the color drained from Arden’s face. There was no surprise, though. Arden had already known. 

“Watch your tongue, Evelyn,” Ruslan growled. Next to Cullen, Evelyn laughed, but it sounded all wrong. It was hollow; void of emotion, not at all like her real laugh. And when she spoke, her voice was high and tight, her Free Marcher accent thick. Cullen barely recognized it; barely recognized her. 

“Or what, Ruslan?” Evelyn took a step toward her eldest brother. She raised her arms out to the side. “You’re in  _ my _ hold. You have no power here.”

“I am still head of House Trevelyan and you still answer to me  _ Inquisitor _ ” Ruslan’s eyes narrowed. After a moment he sucked in a deep breath and relaxed his shoulders. “I’ve arranged a marriage for you, finally. I will stay here until arrangements are finalized to ensure you don’t pull any of your usual...stunts.”

Cullen's stomach dropped at the same time his fury rose in his chest. The tension in the room was suffocating. Josephine watched with wide eyes. Leliana adjusted her robes to reveal the belts of knives she kept there. Cassandra growled. The rest of the companions tightened their grips on their weapons. Cullen could feel the mages in the room pulled up their magic, ready to fire off spells. Even Arden Trevelyan sensed the tension, taking a step back from his siblings. 

Then Evelyn dropped her head back and laughed, that same empty, cold laugh from before. Cullen knew her well enough to know when she was playing a game, but this was one he couldn’t follow. Unlike the Winter Palace, when he’d enjoyed watching her play, he did not like this game. It felt dangerous; more dangerous than even the masquerade. He couldn’t read Evelyn. He didn’t know this side of her. He couldn’t tell if she was angry or sad or scared. He didn’t know how to help. 

“There is no fucking way that is going to happen,” Evelyn said when she was done laughing. The twitch in Ruslan’s arm was visible, but his hand remained at his side. Evelyn saw it and the corners of a mouth pulled up in a victorious smile. She took another step forward. “What is it, Ruslan? You can only hit me behind closed doors? Don’t want to burn me with your cigar with witnesses? No cuts from you knife while others are watching?”

Cullen could see the expressions of fury and disgust on the faces of her companions. Most of them were shocked - eyes wide, mouths open - with the exception of Dorian and Bull. Sera was muttering under her breath, angry curses bouncing off the stone walls of the hall. After a few more moments of silence from Ruslan, Evelyn stuck her chin out and snorted. 

“I didn’t think so.” She taunted. She had to be taunting him, trying to pull something out. It was the only explanation Cullen could come up with for her behavior. An explanation that he didn't like. “Don’t quite have the balls for that, do you?”

Ruslan sneered, a growl escaping his lips. 

“I’ve had enough of this, Evelyn,” he snapped. “Stop this charade - running around in armor, fighting Templars, leading a band of outcast heretics. It is disgraceful! You come will come home with me, you will marry a man of my choosing and for once, in your fucking life, do something worthwhile for your family!”

“Go fuck yourself, Ruslan,” Evelyn snarled right back, taking yet another step closer. “You don’t command me. You don’t control me - you could never control me. Even when I was a little girl, you couldn’t manage me, you weak, pathetic, ignorant…”

“Enough!” Ruslan roared, cutting Evelyn off just before the back of his hand connected with her face. The crack echoed through the hall as the Inquisitor’s advisors and friends gasped, and then collectively took a step forward, drawing their weapons. 

But before anyone could act, Evelyn’s fist shot out, connecting with Ruslan’s throat. Then she grabbed his wrist, spun him around, twisted his arm behind him and kicked his legs out from under him. Bann Trevelyan’s knees hit the stone floor with a painful thud. Evelyn's other hand pressed a knife to his throat as she leaned over his back to speak into his ear. 

“Let me be perfectly clear, Ruslan.” her voice was low and measured. “You remain head of this family for as long as I allow it. I have enough on you to ruin everything you have, anytime I please. And if you ever, ever, touch me again, you will be finished. You see all of these people in here? Every single one of them, including our sweet Ambassador, is capable and willing to kill you without hesitation should I ask it of them. You’d never see it coming.”

Then she released her brother and stepped back. Her grip on her knife was so tight, her knuckles were white and Cullen could see the slight tremor, but her gaze did not waver from her brother. Ruslan’s hand flew to his throat and he scrambled to his feet. He whirled around to face his sister, hair disheveled, eyes wild. 

“Now get the  _ fuck _ out of my castle,” Evelyn demanded. “And don't you ever come back.”

Ruslan glared at Evelyn for another moment before his eyes flickered first to Leliana and then Cullen, who still stood behind the Inquisitor, hands on their weapons. Then, when a disgusted huff through his nose, hand still clutching his neck, he turned on the heel of his boot and marched toward the main door. Arden took a step back allow his brother to pass and then looked at his sister.

“Evelyn, I…”Arden began, but his words died off when Evelyn waved a hand at him. 

“Don’t, Arden,” she snapped. “I don’t want an empty and long overdue apology from you.”

“I didn’t know,” he argued weakly. 

“You didn’t know because you didn’t want to know. I tried to show you. I wore clothes to show the bruises and burns and the cuts, hoping and praying that you would see. That you would fucking help me.” Evelyn’s voice broke then. The first crack in her facade. She took a shuddering breath. “But you always looked away; always averted your eyes. You’re more of a coward than he is. And if you believe for a moment that he hasn’t turned he attention to your wife or your daughters, you’re more of a fool than I thought. Men like him don’t stop.”

Arden didn’t respond. He just dropped his head and followed Rusland to the door, shoulders sagging. Cullen watched the man nod and say something to Rawlin, who had slipped through the main door as Ruslan stormed out. Rawlin whispered something back, patting Arden’s shoulder. When Rawlin turned his attention to Evelyn, his mouth pulled tight, his eyes focusing on the bruise blooming on her cheek. 

Blackwall pushed the main door shut again. The latch clicking into place sounded far too loud in the silent hall. For a moment, the tense silence remained. Then Rawlin started for his sister. 

“Evie…”

But the Inquisitor cut him off. 

“How in the  _ fuck _ did that asshole get into Skyhold?” Evelyn’s shout bounced off the walls. Her entire body shook. The companions all started for her, brows pulled tight in concern, frowns deep. When she spoke again, her voice was quieter. “How did he get in here?”

“He disguised himself,” Rawlin said, hurrying to his sister. “He and Arden carried their armor in on a mule and disguised themselves as commoners making the pilgrimage to Skyhold.”

“Ruslan knew you’d never allow him entrance, so he snuck in,” Bull rumbled. Evelyn growled in frustration, her hands balling into fists at her side. Cullen reached out tentatively to press his hand at the small of her back. She tensed at the touch initially and then relaxed. Cullen stepped forward until he was pressed against her side, offering support.

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly. Evelyn’s response was a quick, barely noticeable shake of her head. Solas approached the Inquisitor and gently took her chin in his hand. He carefully turned her face and studied the bruise forming on her cheek. 

“May I?” he asked his voice soft but hard, angry. Evelyn nodded. 

“What would you like to do?” Leliana asked. “I have the documents ready.”

“What documents?” Cullen asked, eyes flickering between Evelyn and Leliana. He was ignored. 

“No. Not yet.” Evelyn shook her head. Irritation burned in Leliana’s eyes. 

“May I inquire as to why?” She demanded. “His display was…”

“Provoked,” Evelyn interrupted. “Intentionally.”

“That does not excuse it,” Dorian snapped. 

“I know, Dorian. I know. Fuck. I know that. I just…”Evelyn let out a long breath. “If I destroy Ruslan, if we used those documents, I destroy the whole family. My family. I have nieces and nephews. They don’t deserve to lose everything because Ruslan is an asshole.

“Hold onto the information for now. Let him squirm for a while. But I want eyes on him - at the estate, when he travels. Let’s find something we can use without taking down the entire Trevelyan estate. And I don’t want another surprise.” Evelyn took a deep breath and leaned ever so slightly into Cullen’s side as Solas stepped back. The bruise on her face was gone but the anger in the elf’s eye still burned brightly. 

“He will not touch you again, dalen,” Solas said in a quiet, stern voice. Cullen felt Evelyn shake at the heartfelt vow, heard the unevenness in the breath she pulled in.

“I can stick him with my arrow,” Sera chimed in from the balcony. “Right in the arsehole.”

“Thank you, Sera, Solas, but I’d rather just leave it be,” Evelyn said, control slipping back into her voice and body. “That man has stolen enough of my life. I will not give him another moment of my attention over behaviors that say more about him than they do about me.”

She said the last few words like it was a mantra; like she’d spent years saying it over and over again, trying to convince herself of its truth; trying to convince herself that she didn't deserve the abuse; that Ruslan had been in the wrong not her. Cullen fought the urge to pull her into his embrace and never let her go. 

“I do hate to bring this up now,” Vivienne stepped forward, apparently having made her way down from the balcony, genuine concern in her voice. “But we need to discuss damage control.”

“Oh for Maker’s sake,” Cullen growled, his control finally breaking. Evelyn was still trembling next to him and the woman was worried about politics. “Give her some time!”

“It’s okay, Cullen.” Evelyn finally turned to face him. Her face was schooled and calm, but Cullen could see the anger, the pain still lingering in her eyes. “Vivienne is right.”

“Evelyn…”he began to protest, stopping when she reached for his hand and squeezed it gently. 

“He’s already created enough chaos,” she said. “Rumors will already be spreading. if we don’t get ahead of this, the disruption he caused today could damage our reputation; my reputation. I won’t give him that kind of power, okay?”

She waited for him to nod before turning back to Vivienne. 

“Josie, Leliana, let’s take the discussion to the War Room, shall we? Vivienne, I trust you can handle the whispers?”

Vivienne’s smile actually reached her eyes. Cullen never quite understood the relationship between the two. They were friendly, close even, but they were not as warm as Evelyn’s other friendships. Still, Evelyn was the only person Cullen had ever seen make the mage smile like that. Just another reason that he admired her.

“Of course, My Dear,” she said. “Consider it done.”

Evelyn nodded and then led Josephine and Leliana toward the War Room, shoulders back, head held high once again. Bull and Dorian approached Cullen as the other companions began to reopen the hall. 

“Are you okay with this?” Dorian demanded. “With just letting him go?”

“No,” Cullen admitted. No, he wasn’t. He wanted to storm after the Bann and beat him to within an inch of his life. And then do the same to Arden for ignoring the abuse for all those years. What Evelyn had said to him the hall, the way her voice had broke - he thought his heart would shatter. He could picture fifteen-year-old Evelyn sitting at dinner, arms covered in bruises, watching Arden expectantly, trying to catch his gaze. He could almost see the hope in her eyes, picture how they looked day after day as her hope slowly faded. No, he was not okay with letting Ruslan and Arden Trevelyan go. 

“I could send Krem out with some of the boys,” Bull offered. “Stage a run in with some ‘bandits.’”

Cullen mulled over the idea for a moment. Maker, it was tempting. So tempting. But Evelyn had asked them to leave it be and she would figure it out if they staged an attack. And it would seem she had her own way of dealing with her brother when she decided. It would be better that way, anyway. She should be the one to bring him down. So he reluctantly shook his head. 

“This is her demon,” he said. “She has to deal with it in her own way and we have to respect that.”

Dorian huffed but didn’t argue. 

“Alright,” Bull conceded. “But if you ever change your mind…”

“You’ll be the first to know,” Cullen said, maybe a bit too quickly. He nodded to Dorian and Bull and then headed for his office. He had work to do and Evelyn would be busy with “damage control” for hours, he was sure. 

So he concentrated on his work - reports from the field, notifications to families of fallen soldiers, requisition requests, scouting reports. It was nearly midday when his door creaked open and Evelyn slipped inside. One look at her drooping shoulders, the downward turn of her mouth and the sheen of unshed tears in her eyes, and Cullen was out of his chair and hurrying for her. He gathered her into his arms and she pressed her face into his chest, arms tight around his waist. 

They didn’t say anything for several long minutes. There was no need to; there were no words to say that could fix what happened; nothing Cullen could say that could undo what had been done. But he could hold her. 

Eventually, Evelyn sighed and tipped her head back to look up at him. 

“Can we go away somewhere?” She whispered. “Just for a few days?”

“Whatever you need,” he said. Evelyn sighed and pressed her face into his chest again. Cullen kissed the top of her head, running his fingers up and down her back. “We actually have some dealings in Ferelden that require my attention. I had intended to ask you to join me. It should take a few days - four or five at most. 

“That sounds perfect,” Evelyn sighed “Just you and me?”

“Just you and me,” Cullen agreed readily, smiling at the idea of having her to himself for a few days. 

“Can we leave in the morning?” She asked. 

“I’ll make it happen.” Cullen felt  Evelyn practically melted in his arm and he tightened his grip on her. Several minutes passed in a comfortable silence once again. Eventually, though, Cullen gently pulled away. “I can’t make it happen if we stand here all afternoon, though.”

Evelyn huffed and pulled away. 

“I don’t want to go back to the main hall,” she sighed. “The vultures are circling.”

Cullen leaned forward and captured her lips in a quick kiss. 

“You are Evelyn Trevelyan, Raven Knight, Herald of Andraste, Inquisitor, Savior of Orlais, Conqueror of Adamant - you can handle a few noble prigs.”

Evelyn smiled up at him. Her first real smile all day.

“I love you, Cullen Rutherford,” she said. 

“I know.” Cullen winked and Evelyn threw her head back and laughed. Her laugh, not the one she used on her brother, but her real laugh. Cullen couldn’t help but smile. He loved that laugh. Shaking her head, Evelyn turned and headed for the door. A sudden urge overtook him and Cullen leaned forward and slapped her ass as she walked away.

She squealed - a noise she only ever made for him - and looked over her shoulder, eyes wide in shock. Then she narrowed her eyes and pointed a finger at him. Then she winked, grinned and slinked out of the door, swinging her hips as she went, leaving Cullen standing in his office grinning like a lovesick teenage boy.


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen takes Evelyn away for some much needed alone time. Fluff and smut and not much else!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who missed the last chapter, I promised a summary. In short, Ruslan - the eldest, abusive Trevelyan brother - sneaks into Skyhold and surprises Evelyn and her companions. He tried to force Evelyn to accept a marriage he arranged while he stays at Skyhold. Evelyn, of course, says no. Shit hits the fan. Evelyn, backed up by all her companions, puts Ruslan in his place and bans him from every returning. 
> 
> The second oldest brother, Arden, tries to apologize for ignoring the abuse for so many years but Evelyn doesn't want to hear it. 
> 
> And then Evelyn asks Cullen to take her away for a little break. 
> 
> **Also, a special shout out to SaibraRutherford, who has done amazing things for my writer's confidence. Thank you for always being so positive and encouraging. She was one of the first people I read on here and her stuff is great. Check it out, you!**

Evelyn pressed herself back into Cullen’s broad chest, letting the quiet and calm of the lake settle into her bones. Other than Inquisition camps at night, it had been just the two of them for two days. They planned to stay the day here at the lake tomorrow and then head back to Skyhold. As far as the rest of the Inquisition knew, they were on business. No one bothered them. No one asked her for anything. No one demanded her time. No one requested her presence for tea or dinner. It was marvelous. 

“How are you doing?” Cullen asked, his lips brushing her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. 

“Better,” she said, leaning even further into him. Only Cullen knew how close she’d been to crumbling when Ruslan had walked into the main hall that day. The effort it had required to keep herself from cowering under her brother’s icy gazed had drained her. She'd wanted to step back; the retreat behind her advisors and her companions. She'd wanted to so back and she still wasn't sure where she'd found the will to stand tall. Just those few minutes in his presence and it had almost broken her. 

It made her so angry. Years of recovery, of growing stronger, of owning her scars and building her life, and all it took was one look for it to start crumbling. 

“Don’t, Ev,” Cullen pressed his lips to her neck. “Don’t beat yourself up. These things take years to fade; some never do. I still have nightmares of Kinloch almost every night. Let it go,” 

He pressed his lips to her neck once again and she shivered. Cullen chuckled and began trailing kisses and lips down her neck to her shoulder. Rough, calloused fingers followed his lips. Evelyn shivered when he tugged the collar of her shirt and continued her work across his shoulder.  With a sigh, Evelyn tripped her head sideways and was rewarded with a strong nip at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. A moan escaped her as Cullen snaked one hand up her torso until it settled on her breast. Evelyn moaned again, arching her chest into his touch, pressing her ass into his groin. His hard member pressed against her. 

“Tent?” Cullen asked, voice rough. Evelyn could only nod, her voice lost to the pleasure running through her body. Cullen quickly turned her around and hoisted her up. Evelyn wrapped her legs around Cullen’s strong waist and let him carry her. They stumbled to their tent, kissing and nipping and sucking. 

By the time Cullen finally managed to get them to their destination, Evelyn had pulled off his tunic, dropping it on the ground somewhere, and was running her hands over his muscled chest and back. When he put her back on her feet, she immediately reached for the ties on his pants. She wanted to be lost in him - in the smell of him, the taste of him, the feel of him - and push everything else aside. 

Cullen groaned when she dropped to her knees and pulled his length out. And again when she flicked her tongue over the tip and then swallowed him down. Evelyn looked up at her naked Commander’s body to see his head tossed back in ecstasy. The image spurred her on, sending liquid desire to her core.

“Ev…” Cullen stuttered out, sinking his hands into her hair. Evelyn hummed around him and he moaned again, his fingers tightening in her hair. She continued working on him - bobbing up and down, following her mouth with her hand; swirling her tongue over his tip; hollowing her cheeks and sucking - until she could feel Cullen’s knees shaking. “Fuck, Evelyn. Ngh, it’s so good, but Maker you have to stop.”

Evelyn pulled off with a wet pop, saliva running down her chin. She knew she looked utterly debauched and she knew Cullen loved it. She grinned at him as he sunk to his knees to join her on the ground. Without a word, he pulled her tunic off her and roughly pulled her forward to capture her lips with his. 

Her entire body sang with desire and anticipation. Want swirled and pooled in her core, soaking her smalls. Cullen groaned when he pushed her down to lay on her back and peel her leathers off, his eyes locked on the wetness shining on her lower lips. 

With a growl, he dove right for her core, his mouth warm and wanting on her lips. Evelyn cried out and arched off the bed roll. She tingled from the tips of her fingers to the bottoms of her feet; like tiny lightning bolts running up and down her skin.  Cullen licked and teased until she was a whimpering mess underneath him. She felt strung out, pulled tight, ready to burst, absolutely glorious. And then he slid a finger into her, curling it forward to press on her spot and clamped his mouth over her clit and sucked. 

Evelyn shattered, her body both numb and racked with pleasure all at the same time. She cried out, Cullen still sucking and pressing on her. White sparks danced behind her eyelids. 

When she came back to reality, Cullen was kissing his way up her neck, his body stretched out over hers, his hard length pressed into her thigh. Evelyn sighed and gently pulled his face up to hers, trailing kisses along his jaw while he whispered into her ear. 

“You are so beautiful like that, Ev.” He gently nipped her earlobe. “Lost in passion, sweaty, wild...fuck, I love watching you come.”

His voice was low and rough and it made her want to come all over again. Maker, she loved it when he talked dirty. She moaned and shifted underneath him so that her legs were hooked over his hips. 

“Cullen, please.” She was whining, begging, but she didn’t care. Evelyn could feel Cullen’s length close, so close, to where she needed it. Cullen grunted in response, reaching down to align himself with her entrance. Evelyn’s breath was quick and shallow as she waited, her fingertips digging into his biceps. 

A long, high, needy whine escaped her as he sunk into her. Cullen dropped his head to her shoulder, his breath hot against her skin. Pleasure spread, warm and blissful, from her core out to her limbs. 

She abandoned herself to the rhythm he set, steady and deep and hard, to the smell of his skin, to the soft groan and sighs he made. Evelyn gave herself over to the sensation, the building pressure deep in her core, the spark of desire that jolted her when Cullen rolled her nipples, to the feel of his tongue sweeping into her mouth. 

When she felt his rhythm stutter, she knew he was close. She slid her hands down to his ass - Maker, that ass - and pulled him closer, deeper with each thrust. His shout started low in his chest, growing into a roar as he tumbled over his peak, pulling Evelyn into ecstasy with him. 

She was vaguely aware of Cullen rolling off her, pressing a kiss to her temple and helping clean her off. When she finally fully opened her eyes, Cullen was laying on his side next to her, head propped up on his hand. 

“How are you doing now?” He asked, just a hint of smugness in his voice. The corner of his lip twitched, pulling at his scar. Fuck, he was sexy. 

“Oh, much better, Commander,” she cooed. “But not quite recovered. I think I may need some more attention before the day is through.”

Cullen chuckled at her teasing. Then he rolled over and began digging in his pack for something.

“I think that can be arranged,” he said, his voice muffled. “But, I’m willing to bet this will help do the trick.”

He turned back to her, holding a bottle of her favorite whiskey. Evelyn groaned and set up, grabbed Cullen’s old wool sweater out of her bag, pulled it on and took the bottle from Cullen.

“I love you,” she said, breaking the seal on the top of the bottle. Cullen’s eyebrow shot up.

“For bringing you whiskey?”

“Among other things,” she teased. She yanked the cork out and took a quick swig, sighing as the liquid warmed her throat. 

“Such as?” He prodded. Evelyn screwed her face up in mock concentration. 

“Hmm, well, you grumble very well,” she started. Cullen’s eyebrow arched higher. “You write an excellent report, very dry and full of facts. And you’re very good at brooding. I do love a good brood…”

Cullen launched himself at her, a smile crinkling the corner of her eyes. Evelyn yelped, lifting the bottle to protect it and taking the hit head on. 

“You little shit,” he playfully growled as he tackled her to the ground. 

“Ah, no!” Evelyn laughed. “Don’t spill the whiskey!”


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen has a solution for Evelyn's stress over the Raven Knight and it's something Evelyn never saw coming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's the thing, friends...I started law school last week. 
> 
> And everyone tells you how crazy it is but until you're in the middle of it, you have no idea...
> 
> Don't worry
> 
> I'M NOT PUTTING THIS ON HOLD!
> 
> It's just going to be slow (well, slower than usual) in coming. Just hang in there with me and we'll see these two through. 
> 
> Also, the editing will be rougher than usual, as I will likely just try to be getting the chapters up and not making them perfect.

Maker, I cannot wait to have a real bath,” Dorian moaned when the gates of Skyhold could finally be seen. “I’ve got sand in cracks I didn’t even know I had.”

“Gross, Dorian,” Evelyn snorted half-heartedly. She was pretty sure she was having the same issue. Two months in the Hissing Wastes did that to everyone. And they’d barely covered a quarter of the rough maps Harding had been able to provide. They would have to head back in a week or so, but Evelyn needed a break from the dirt and the beasts and the perpetual dusk that strained her eyes and messed up her sleeping schedule. 

The horns sounded as their party approached and the gates swung open. It was the usual fanfare - visitors gathering around to see the Inquisitor, Dennet and several stable hands waiting for the horses, her advisors waiting to catch her up on business. 

“Thank you, Dennet,” Evelyn smiled and handed the gruff old man her reins. He gave her a nod and just the hint of a smile. 

“Any time, Inquisitor,” he mumbled. Evelyn nodded to a few of the nobles and others she recognized and made her way to the steps. Josephine greeted her with a nod and a smile. 

“Welcome home, Inquisitor,” she said, turning and falling into step with Evelyn as they made their way up to the main hall. 

“Good to see you, Josie. Um, where are my spymaster and commander?” It was unusual for the three of them not to greet her, especially Cullen.

“They are waiting for us in your chambers,” Josephine said quietly. “We’ve a...proposal for you.”

“The three of you have a proposal for me?” Evelyn paused and looked at the Ambassador. “In my chambers?”

Josephine stopped and looked back at Evelyn for a moment, confusion on her face. Then her eyes grew wide and she covered her mouth to stifle a giggle. 

“Oh please, Evelyn! Really?” Josephine shook her head and continued through the hall, Evelyn following. “I assure you, it is nothing quite so adventurous as that?”

“Adventurous?” Evelyn teased. “Not really a description of an orgy I’d expect from you, Josie.” 

“I’m full of surprises, Inquisitor,” Josie’s eyes twinkled with mischief as she held the door to Evelyn’s chamber and waited for the Inquisitor to walk through before following her. 

“Well, Blackwall is a lucky man.” Evelyn watched Josephine turn red. She hadn’t been sure the two of them would get back together after they discovered Blackwall was really Thom Rainier.  _ That _ had been a mess. Celine had not been happy when Evelyn has asked her to return Blackwall. It had taken two trips to the Winter Palace and a not so subtle reminder that the Empress owed the Inquisition her throne and her life. Eventually, though, Celine had agreed. 

Josephine was a major reason Evelyn had chosen to clear Blackwall, though she'd never say that out loud to anyone. She couldn’t bear looking at the ambassador’s red, puffy eyes another day. Besides that, Blackwall had spent the rest of his life trying to make up for his mistakes. While his crimes couldn’t be undone, he’d paid for them. The Inquisition was a place for new beginnings, so she’d given him the chance for one - both him and Josie.

Evelyn would have continued teasing if not for the scene that greeted her when they crested the stairs to her bedroom. Leliana and Rawlin stood by the fireplace, heads bowed close together, deep in conversation. Cullen sat on her couch staring blankly at the wall and Sera sat at her desk, leaned back in the chair, feet propped up on Evelyn’s desk, twirling a dagger between her fingers. 

“This really would be quite a party you guys, but I think it’s a bit much right now,” Evelyn said. Behind her, Josephine sighed, Cullen jolted out of his reprieve and Leliana paused her conversation with Rawlin. Sera laughed. Evelyn winked at her. At least she could always count on Sera to laugh at her dirty jokes. Sheh turned her attention back to the others. “What’s really going on?”

Cullen stood up and approached her. Before he said anything, he took her by the shoulders and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. Evelyn eye him suspiciously. If he was pre-empting their “proposal” with a cute move like that, he must think he had to butter her up first. 

“Before we start, you should know that Sera figured it out months ago," he said quietly. “No one here betrayed any confidences.”

“What are you talking about?” Evelyn shook her head.

“You’re the Raven Knight, yeah?” Sera chirped from her seat at Evelyn’s desk. Evelyn whirled around to face her. “Don’t panic, yeah? I haven’t told anyone, ‘cept to ask Cully and Sister Scary-Eyes if they know.”

“What?” All the air left her lungs in a rush; her heart pounded; her mind raced with every possible slip-up she could have made, every situation that could have given her away. Evelyn closed her eyes and shook her head, trying to rattle her thoughts into some sort of order. “How…?”

“I saw you -well, the Raven Knight - in Denerim a few years ago,” Sera explained. “During some trouble with blood magic in the alienage. The Jennies got word so I went to go sort it all out before the Templars came in and stomped on everyone. But the Raven Knight was already there, taking on the Templars and the city guard all on her own. Protecting people - little people. 

“It’s been tugging at my brain all crazy like since I first saw you. I knew you were familiar. How you fight, all twisty and bendy and shit. But it didn’t click till a few months ago, yeah? Then I watched for a bit before I asked Cully-Wully here. He turned all flustery when I asked him, so I figured I was right.” 

Evelyn turned back to Cullen to see a flush spreading up his neck. She didn’t know if she should be irritated or amused. Mostly she was just confused. This was a conversation she'd never dreamed of having in even her most wild and crazy imaginings. 

“Sorry,” Cullen mumbled. “She caught me off guard and…”

Evelyn held up her hand to silence him and closed her eyes. She took three deep breaths to calm her racing heart and collect her thoughts. There were more important things than how Sera knew. She couldn't do anything about that now. 

“This is supposed to be a secret,” she said slowly .”It was always meant to be. And now five people know. Do you understand how difficult it is to keep a secret with five people? If anyone ever learns who the Raven Knight is, especially now that I’m Inquisitor.”

“No one will find out,” Cullen interrupted, gently grasping her shoulders again .”Sera, for all her...antics, can keep a secret. She’s Red Jenny.”

“We’re all Red Jenny,” Sera piped up. “How many times do I need to tell ya?”

“Fine, she’s  _ a _ Red Jenny,” Cullen muttered with annoyance. “The point is, she deals in secrets just like you and Leliana.”

“I wouldn’t go quite that far,” Leliana cooed. Sera snorted in protest and mutter something about not being as stuck up as Sister Scary-Eyes. 

“Okay, fine. Fine. Fine,” Evelyn said. “What does this have to do with any proposal that you have for me?”

“You expressed concerns a few months ago over the absence of the Raven Knight and I’ve been trying to think of a way to help,” Cullen explained. “And when Sera came to me I thought, maybe, she could be the Raven Knight. Just for awhile, so you can focus on being Inquisitor.”

“What? No, that's…” Evelyn paused again, she couldn’t think straight through the fatigue and the emotions. “I promised. I promised her that I would do it. I can’t just...give it to someone else.”

“You’re not giving it to someone else, Evie,” Rawlin crossed the room to stand in front of her next to Cullen. “You’re just letting someone help for awhile, and that’s okay. She’d understand; she’d want you to find help. Both the Inquisitor and the Raven Knight are needed, but you can’t be both. Not at the same time.”

“And you are the only one who can be the Inquisitor,” Cullen added. 

Evelyn knew they were right. It all made sense. It was quite a brilliant plan really. But still, in her heart, it felt like a betrayal of the promise she’d given her mother. 

“Who knows,” Josephine chimed in. “Perhaps someday, when this is all over, it would be good to have two Raven Knights. You’d be able to be in two places at once. Help more people.”

Or, if Evelyn died at the end of the war, the Raven Knight could go on. That was what was important - the symbol of the Raven Knight, the hope that symbol brought - it had to continue past this war. Whether she did or not. 

Without looking at Cullen or Rawlin, Evelyn turned to look at Sera. The elf was standing now, leaning against her desk. Her expression was more somber than Evelyn had ever seen. 

“Sera, this is serious. Really serious,” Evelyn started. “My mother was the Raven Knight. She trained me and I promised to uphold everything she built. You know I love you, but if you’re going to be the Raven Knight, you can’t be up to your usual antics. There is an image that must be maintained. The image of the Raven Knight - how people see that symbol - it matters.”

“Yeah, I get it.” Sera pushed herself off the desk, straightening her spine, pulling her shoulders back and sticking her chin out just a bit. From that alone, standing what appeared to be two inches taller, she looked like a completely different person. But when she spoke, Evelyn almost fell over. “How did you say it? Simply because I do not play The Game does not mean I am unable.”

Sera’s voice was a near perfect imitation of Evelyn’s - smooth and clear with just a hint of Free Marcher accent.

“I’ll be damned,” Cullen said. 

“Yeah,” Rawlin agreed. “That’s more than a little terrifying.”

After a moment, Sera silenced back into her normal posture and leaned back against the desk.

“I know what’s important to you and well, you’re…” Sera looked away from Evelyn and crossed her arms over her chest. “You’re important to me so I won’t fuck it up, okay?”

Evelyn just stared at Sera for another few moments both shocked and touched. She felt a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth but she fought it. Evelyn knew Sera well enough to know she wouldn’t want to draw any more attention to the admission she just made. So she opted for humor instead.

“You sure you’re up to it?” Evelyn asked.“The Raven Knight uses daggers more than arrows.”

“Oi, it’s all the same, innut? Pointy end goes in the bad guy!” Sera protested. Then she saw Evelyn’s expression. “Oh, very funny Madame Quizzy.”

Evelyn winked at Sera and then turned to Leliana. 

“While I’m here, I will help coordinate missions. When I’m away, I’d like Rawlin to assist. He has a working knowledge of Raven Knight history.”

“As you wish, Inquisitor," Leliana nodded. Evelyn took a deep breath before they continued discussing plans. Nearly an hour later Sera, Josephine, Leliana and Rawlin filed out of her chambers. Exhaustion settled into her bones and she dropped onto the couch, dropping her head back to rest on the cushions and closed her eyes. 

She heard Cullen moving about the room; heard him pulling water from the enchanted pipes in the water closet; heard him dumping the water into the large, marble tub Josephine had acquired; heard him drop a warming rune into the tub. 

Evelyn cracked an eye open when she felt Cullen lift a foot. He smiled at her while he before unlacing her boots. 

“Thank you,” Evelyn said, her voice rough with emotions. Some days she couldn’t believe she had this - had him. “For doing this.”

“It’s nothing,” he said in his usual nonchalant way. Evelyn leaned forward and grasped his hand. He paused his movements and looked up at her.

“It’s everything, Cullen. I mean it, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said, smiling sheepishly. He leaned down and kissed the inside arch of her foot when he pulled off her boot and stockings. Evelyn let him help her undress and then climb into the tub. While she washed, Cullen crawled into bed. There was a beautiful, calming simplicity to it all - just two lovers going about their evening routines. There was a comfort in this moment that Evelyn had never expected to find and she’d be damned if she let anyone take it from her without one hell of a fight. It helped push away some of the fatigue; helped remind her why she worked so hard every day; why she traveled all over Thedas doing menial tasks to show the people that she cared. Sure, she wanted to save the world, to save Thedas but this, what she had with Cullen, this was what kept her going day in and day out. And why she’d keep doing it.

“What are you staring at?” Cullen asked from the bed, brows pulled together in concern. Evelyn smiled, letting her eyes rake down his bare torso. 

“You,” she teased back. A cocky grin spread over her man’s face and he pulled the blankets down a bit lower so that she could see his hip bones and the muscles that shaped a “V” leading down to his manhood. 

“Is this what you’re looking for?” He said. Evelyn nodded and stood in her tub, giving Cullen’s eyes time to travel up and down her body until his eyes met hers again, dark with desire. And then she leaped out of the tub and ran for him, laugh echoing in their chambers. “What! No! Ev, dry off first!”


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Burying Maddox and some surprising news....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! Short and sweet chapter. This story has taken on a life of its own so I'm trying to figure out how to get it back under control, but more will be coming! 
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me!

She still worried that bringing him had been a mistake. Being surrounded by red lyrium was difficult for her. She couldn’t imagine Cullen was faring well. But he didn’t say a word, didn’t pause his efforts, though his shirt was soaked and sweat ran down his temples. Evelyn had offered to help once but he’d shaken his head and kept digging. 

They’d chosen a spot to the east of the Shrine, under a willow tree. The Inquisition camp was more than a mile south, the fighting had stopped and a soft breeze rippling through the leaves was the only sound that interrupted the silence. 

When he finished digging the grave, Evelyn helped him lift the body of Maddox and lower him as carefully as they could into the ground. Once again, Evelyn stood to the side and let Cullen do the work. She’d offered to send someone to bring the tranquil mage but Cullen had wanted to do it himself. 

The sun was low on the horizon to the west by the time the grave was filled, the light barely reaching them over hills and through trees and smoke from the fire still burning at the Shrine. Evelyn slipped an arm around Cullen’s waist, not caring if he was sweaty.

He pulled her closer to him, an arm around her shoulders. They stood there in silence until the sky turned deep purple and the crickets chirped and the lightning bugs came out.

“Do you think the things I’ve done will ever be forgiven?” Cullen whispered. Evelyn sighed. She’d known the question had been swirling inside of him since finding Maddox. She moved to stand directly in front of him, both arms hooked around his waist. 

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” she said. Cullen looked down at her, his eyes sad, his lips drawn into a deep frown. “But I do know that you have no control over that. And I know what letting something you can’t control eat away at you will only make it worse. The only thing you can control is whether or not you forgive yourself.”

Cullen’s eyes grow wide. He jstared at her but didn’t say anything. Finally, he let out a long breath. 

“What if I can’t ever forgive myself?” He whispered. 

“You can,” Evelyn repeated the same thing she’d said months earlier about overcoming his lyrium addiction. She took his face in her hands and kissed him. “If it helps, I forgive you.”

He let out a long breath, closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to hers. Again, the stood in silence for a long time. Until someone cleared their throat behind Evelyn. 

“Sorry, Inquisitor,” Harding apologized once Evelyn turned around. “We’ve received a rave from Skyhold. You’re needed there right away.”

“Why?” Evelyn asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Your brother, Arden, arrived with his wife and children two days ago. They’re seeking asylum.”


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Evelyn finds out why Arden is seeking asylum and it's worse than she feared. 
> 
> **WARNING** There is a discussion about abuse and sexual assault in this chapter. It's minimal but its there and I don't want to upset anyone. If you will be triggered, please skip. I will provide a chapter summary at the beginning of the next chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, I finally wrote a thing! It's amazing what I can find to do when I'm trying not to do schoolwork....

“Are you sure you don’t want me to com in?” Cullen asked for the third or fourth time. Evelyn shook her head again, hand still hovering over the handle to Josephine’s office. Her heart pounded and the naseau that rolled in her stomach has been there since Harding had given her the news. She’d not expected to see or hear from Arden after their last meeting and she had no idea what to say or how to behave. She tried to tell herself that she couldn’t imagine why he would be seeking asylum but she could, and that was the worst part. She could imagine any number of things Ruslan had done to send Arden, who had been loyal as a well-trained hunting dog for more than half his life, running back to Skyhold with his family in tow. Another minute passed before she groaned and decided to just wing it. That’s how she did most things anyway. 

“Oh, fuck it all,” she mumbled under her breath and pushed open the door, leaving Cullen behind. Then froze as the door closed behind her.

She’d been expecting just her brother but now stood in front of Arden, his wife Elizabeth, their two daughters, Adrienna and Prudence, and the son - barely 2 - Thomas. Josephine was crouched low next to Thomas in a very un-Josephine way, playing with this stuffed bear. Elizabeth was watching, her thin lips showing just a ghost of a smile, her bright green eyes flickering to Evelyn when she entered the room.

“Ah, Inquisitor!” Josephine straightened. To anyone else, she would appear calm and collected but Evelyn could see the strain in the corner of her lips; the wariness in her eyes. “I was beginning to worry that something was amiss.”

“I appologize,” Evelyn said formally. “I got held up tending to my mount.”

Even to her own ears the lie sounded pretentious. Josephine nodded slowly but Elizabeth’s eyebrow shot up. She was a clever woman; smart; raised in Orlais; perceptive; a master of the Game.

“Does the Inquisition not have stable hands to tend to your horses, Inquisitor?” The woman asked. Her words were polite but the tone was clear. She knew Evelyn was full of shit.

“A good horsewoman tends to her own mount,” Evelyn countered, slipping into the Game easily. And was immediately disgusted with herself. The placid, disinterested expression on Elizabeth’s face was one Evelyn had perfected herself, just to survive in Ruslan’s house. Evelyn never wanted to resort to having to use that defense again and she sure as hell didn’t want to make someone else use it. She sighed, letting her shoulders slump and her defenses fall. “Oh to the Void with it. I don’t have the energy or the desire to play games. Yes, Elizabeth, I have people to take care of my horses. I was late because I don’t know how to handle this situation and I didn’t want to come in.”

The shocked expressions on the faces of the three adults in the room was almost enough to make Evelyn laugh. The oldest daughter, Adrienna, just cocked her head to the side and studied Evelyn. 

“I think, perhaps, I should give you all some privacy,” Josephine finally broke the silence. “Would you like me to take the children with me?”

“We’d like Adrienna to stay,” Arden finally spoke. “But we would appreciate if you could keep the other two entertained for a bit.”

“Of course, Sir Trevelyan.” Josephine easily scooped Thomas up in her arms and gently took Prudence’s hand and started for the door. She paused at Evelyn’s side. “If you need anything, there will be a messenger posted at the door.”

“I’m sure we’ll be fine, Josie.” Evelyn remained purposely informal. “Thank you.”

Once again, the room was silent until the door closed behind the ambassador. With another sigh, Evelyn looked at her brother and then his wife and finally, their daughter, who was still intently studying Evelyn with green eyes the same shade of Evelyn’s mother’s. 

She was at a loss for words, with no idea how to breach the subject before them. So instead of speaking, she pointed to the upholstered chairs in front of the fire and waited for the three of them to pass her before she followed, peeling off her coat as she went. Arden and Elizabeth sat in a chair, Adrienna standing between them. Evelyn dropped unceremoniously into a chair across from them. Elizabeth arched an eyebrow, her eyes flickering down to Evelyn’s arm and then back up. 

“Do you need a healer?” She asked. Evelyn looked down at her arm to see a gash that was all bloodied and scabbed over. She’d forgotten to see the healers before the left the temple when Harding brought the news. Barely holding back a string of curses, she shook her head. 

“It will be fine. Thank you,” Evelyn said. “Adrienna, would you like a chair?”

“I prefer to stand,” she said, her voice low and smooth and so like Evelyn’s mother, it made her heart stop. 

“She sounds like Ma,” Arden said. Evelyn recovered from her shock and looked at her brother. He seemed different. His shoulders were back, his chin high. Evelyn glanced at Adrienna again before returning her attention back to Arden. There was no putting this off any longer. 

“Why are you here, Arden?”She asked. To her surprise, he didn’t look away, didn’t pull back from her directness. Instead, he held her gaze steadily as he spoke. 

“What you said to me when I was here with Ruslan,” Arden paused and swallowed hard. “You were right. About everything. I was a coward. I failed you and I know I can never make up for that. But what you said about our brother; how men like him don’t stop…”

This time when he paused, he looked over at Elizabeth. Silently, she reached out her hand and in a move Evelyn had never seen him make, Arden reached out to his wife and took her hand. 

“I knew there was no way I could change what I did to you but there was a chance for me to do something for my girls. As soon as we got back to the estate, I spoke with Elizabeth.

“I’d known for some time that she’d been with Ruslan. Exclusivity was something neither of us was ever concerned with. But I never know until I returned from Skyhold, that it was not anything that Elizabeth wanted.”

Evelyn felt her throat begin to close, her eyes turning to her sister-in-law, starting to understand why they were here. She glanced at her niece, dread rolling over her. There had to be a reason they wanted to her to stay. Make help her, if Rusland had touched that girl….

“Why did you ever say anything?” Evelyn asked, her voice tight and rough. To her her surprise, Elizabeth snorted. 

“Why didn’t you?” She asked with no malice. “You know very well that while you’re in the middle of it all, you don’t believe saying something will matter. And, I hoped, if I could keep him happy, it would keep his attention away from you.”

The whirlwind of emotions in combination for exhaustion from battle and traveling, was making it difficult for Evelyn to think. Memories flashed through her mind, of days when Ruslan’s cruel gaze had been fixated on her, only to be stolen away by Elizabeth sweeping in. She’d always dressed in form-fitting gowns, low necklines, plunging backs. How had she not seen it? How had seen been so blind?

“You were barely more than a child,” Elizabeth said softly. “Trapped in your own hell. I never expected you to know or help.”

Evelyn shook her head.

“I could have stopped him,” she argued. “If I had stayed…”  
“Nothing would have changed,” Elizabeth interrupted her. “You would never have gotten out; you’d never have been at the Conclave; never been Inquisitor; never been at Skyhold; never have built a place for us to come now, a place to get away.”

“Never would have forced me to honestly look at who our brother is,” Arden continued. Evelyn looked back and forth between them, an overwhelming sense that there was more coming. Unshed tears burned in her eyes when her brother continued. “There is more, Evelyn.”

In unison, Arden and Elizabeth let go of each other’s hand and reached for their daughter. It was unconscious, the way they wrapped arms around her and Evelyn’s heart dropped. 

“A few months ago, I noticed that Adrienna was acting oddly,” Elizabeth started, her voice wavering for the first time. Blood pounded in Evelyn’s ears, so loud she could barely hear Elizabeth when she continued. “Quiet, withdrawn, angry. I thought it was just her being moody but when Arden came home, asking questions, I began to suspect…”

Elizabeth’s voice choked off. Evelyn squeezed her eyes shut, trying to keep her rage under control, fingers digging into the arms of the chair. She could feel the Anchor flaring. She wanted to be sick and scream at the same time. 

“He touched her, Evelyn. He touched my girl” Arden’s voice shook when he spoke. A storm raged w/in her, fury bubbling in her chest; breaths short and shallow, throat constricting. “Evie?”

With a monumental effort, Evelyn pulled the Anchor back under control, forcing her eyes open, her gaze settling on her niece, standing opposite of her. Adrienna, who looked and sounded so much like Evelyn’s mother - Raven Knight, warrior, savior - stood with her head hung, arms clutched around her waist in embarrassment. Shame. Without thinking, Evelyn pushed out of her chair and crossed over the Adrienna, kneeling in front of her, and lifted her chin gently with a finger. Green eyes met hers, unshed tears glistening in the corners.

“Do not hang your head in shame,” Evelyn said quietly. “You have nothing to be ashamed of. What happened was not your fault, it was not deserved, you did not ask for it. He will never touch you again. You are safe here, okay?”

One tear escaped her eye as she nodded. 

“Can you say it for me?” Evelyn asked. “It helped me to say it to myself.”

“I have nothing to be ashamed of. I did nothing wrong. I didn’t deserve. I didn’t ask for it.” Her voice started small but grew strong by the time she was done. Evelyn smiled. 

“That’s good. If you ever forget or need reminding, you just come find me. I had to say it a lot. I still have to say it sometimes.” Again she waited until Adrienna nodded again and then stood up. “Would you mind if I speak with your parents? I can have a messenger take you to Josephine.”

“Okay.” She glanced at Elizabeth, waiting for her mother to nod her consent before following Evelyn to the door. Evelyn plastered a smile on her face when she opened the door and asked the messenger to take the girl straight to Josephine and then to fetch Leliana and Cullen. The spymaster so they could begin formulating the plan to take Ruslan down; Cullen because she could feel her grip on her control slipping.

She made it to the middle of Josephine’s office before the calm she’d found evaporated. Her heart started racing again, her chest tightened, her hands balled into fists shook at her side. 

“Evie?” Arden asked again. Evelyn turned to face him and Elizabeth, who had stood out of their chairs and were approaching her cautiously. It took her a moment to figure out why - the room was bathed in the sickly green of the mark. She met her brother’s eyes for a few moments.  

“I’ll kill him,” she growled. Arden’s eyes grew wide for a moment and then he shook his head. 

“We don’t want you to kill him,” he said. Elizabeth stepped up next to her husband, her expression cold and fierce when she spoke.

“We want you to ruin him.”


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Arden and Elizabeth's confession and a snapshot of Cullen's inner growth. :)
> 
> I promised I wasn't done with them and I meant it! School has left me little to no time to work on my writing, but it's almost at an end for the year! I've got several chapters pre-written and hope to be posting regularly again so we can finish this tale of Cullen and Evelyn!

He could feel the pull of the Anchor from the main hall; could hear the strain in Leliana’s voice through in the hallway; could see the green flicker flow through the crack under the heavy door. Whatever had happened, it couldn’t have been good. 

Cullen pushed open the door to find Evelyn pressed into the back corner of the room, next to the door that lead to the War Room, eyes closed, lips pressed together. Arden and a woman Cullen assumed was his wife stood next to the fireplace, watching Evelyn warily. Between them, Leliana faced Evelyn almost as though she was blocking the Trevelyans. Her head jerked Cullen’s direction and her shoulders relaxed visibly. 

“Commander,” she said, her voice tight and clipped. “Could you attempt to calm her, please/”

It was a rare occurrence to hear anxiety in Leliana’s voice, so he kept his questions to himself and hurried over to Evelyn. Pulling up what minimal Templar abilities he had left, Cullen reached for her hand and pushed back the magic spilling from the mark. By Andraste’s grace, it didn’t take long before he could feel Evelyn regain control. She let out a long breath and slowly  opened her eyes, her gaze meeting his. 

“Hey,” he quietly. Evelyn attempted a tight smile.

“Hi,” she whispered back. 

“What can I do to help?” He knew better than to ask if she was okay. It was clear she wasn’t - she was somewhere between furious and heartbroken. She shook her head. 

“Just stay with me.”

“Always,” he said. She smiled at that. Then heaved a huge sign and stepped around him to approach Leliana, her brother and his wife. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. Cullen followed her across the room. “I don’t usually have problems with the Anchor. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“All is well that ends well,” the woman next to Arden said. Her eyes flickered to him and then back to Evelyn. “I do not seem to sound ungrateful, but we would very much like to keep knowledge of this...situation to a select few.”

“No one but us and the advisors will know,” Evelyn said. Then continued when Arden and the woman did not look convinced. “I require Leliana’s assistance in carrying out my plan - I am too busy with my duties to do it alone. Josephine, I can assure you, has already pieced together what has happened. And I have no secrets from Cullen. This will not spread outside of us, I can promise you that.”

It took several, long moments before Arden and the woman nodded. Lelian apparanty took that as her cue to step forward. 

“This will take some time to pull together and put into action,” Leliana said. Cullen could only guess they were discussing the plan to take down Ruslan. Evelyn had informed him of the information she’d been gathering on her brother for years - fraudulent deals; smuggling, bribery, illegal action in Fereldan and Orlais - secreted away to be used if ever needed. After Ruslan’s visit, Leliana and Evelyn had been gathering the hidden information to ready for use when the time called. Such a time was now, it appeared. “I will have some questions for you in the next few days. We will find time to sit down over tea and talk.”

“Thank you,” Arden said. “For...everything.”

“Skyhold is a place for second chances, new beginnings,” Evelyn said, her voice still tights. “You are welcome here for as long as you wish to stay.”

There were nods and murmurs as the other three left the room, leaving Evelyn and Cullen alone. AS soon as the door closed, Evelyn turned and pressed herself into his chest. Cullen wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. 

“Tell me what happened.”

  
  


She was supposed to be resting; catching up on sleep after rushing back from the Shrine of Dumant. Instead, the Inquisitor, the Herald of Andraste, was barely clothed and covered in sweat, dirt, and blood in the middle of the training ring. She wore her favorite black pants and sleeveless top, the shirt rolled up under her breasts so that her midriff showed. Several scandalized Sisters glared disapprovingly but Evelyn only grinned at them every time they caught her eye.

Evelyn faced off with Ser Barris and one of the Chargers, chest heaving, eyes sharp, daggers in hand. At the side of the ring, Blackwall was being tended to by a healer, blood streaming from his nose and a bruise forming around his eye. 

“It is difficult to reconcile this woman with the girl I knew.” A woman’s voice startled Cullen. He  turned to see Arden’s wife - Elizabeth - approaching him. “I saw her train when she was younger - in secret, of course. Ruslan would never allowed such a thing had he known. But to see her out here; to hear the stories of her in battle… it is quite different. 

“She surprised me when I first met her,” Cullen agreed. “Charging up a mountain, fighting demons pouring from the sky. She still surprises me. Quite often, in fact.”

“She always was strong, willful. But now, she’s something different; something more. Like a force of nature.”

Cullen snorted. 

“That is one of the most apt descriptions I have ever heard of her, Lady Trevelyan,” he agreed. They were silent for several minutes, watching Evelyn spar. She looked tired. If she didn’t pull out soon, he’d have to go out there and stop her before she ran herself ragged.

“Adrienna has been watching Evelyn since she came out here,” Elizabeth said eventually. Cullen’s eyes flickered to where the young girl sat, looking out of place on the benches around the ring in a blue silk gown. She watched Evelyn’s every move, eyes narrowed and focused, leaning forward on her elbows, resting on her knees. “It’s been nearly two hours now.”

Cullen swore under his breach. Evelyn must no even have attempted to sleep, but come straight down here from the War Room. Stubborn woman. 

“She’s asked me to train like her Aunt Evelyn,” Elizabeth continued. “She’s heard of all the things the Inquisitor has done and now she has put a face to all the stories. My daughter, she told me, she wants to be able to fight back.”

The woman’s voice broke just a bit on her last words. She cleared her throat and continued. 

“Do you believe that could help, Commander? Could it help her recover?”

A year ago, such a questions would have made him blush and stutter and run away. It was personal, emotional. But he was different now - he’d grown, changed, recovered from all that had happened. Become someone - several people, really - had given him the ability to fight back. Mainly, the woman in the ring right now. 

“It may help,’ Cullen said quietly, choosing his words carefully. “It will give her confidence, but it can’t be the only way she recovers or she will lose herself in the fight; the violence; the hate. It’s important to fight back in other ways - ways that don’t involve swords, or shields, or daggers, or bows. It’s important to fight back by living; by finding joy and purpose and all those things you thought were taken from you.”

“You speak as though you’ve had experience in such a journey.”

Cullen looked down at Elizabeth Trevelyan. The woman who attempted to save Evelyan from her brother with the only power she had - seduction - even though she didn’t want it. Maybe she wasn’t asking for just her daughter. Elizabeth held his gaze steadily. She was measuring him - sizing him up. A man who could preach such things was unreliable if he had not the strength to own to using them before. 

“The Inquisition is a second chance for many of use, Lady Trevelyan. It took a decade of trying to fight back in all the wrong ways before realizing it. The people here, especially the Inquisitor, helped me find the right way to fight back. This is the place for Adrienna to learn to fight back - both with weapons and her life.”

Elizabeth nodded slowly. 

“I appreciate your honesty, Commander. It is refreshing.”

Cullen was about to reply when there was a loud crack from the training ring, followed by a man shouting and then Bull’s laugh to Cullen’s left. Elizabeth gasped and jump and then apologized profusely. 

“I am sorry, Mr. Bull,” she said breathlessly. “I’m still not quite used to a Qunari being around. And being so quiet.”

Bull laughed again. 

“No worries, Ma’am.” Bull said, then dropped a hand on his shoulder. “You’d better go get her. She just made Blackwall swear at her and I don’t think he’s every addressed her as anything other than ‘My Lady.”

Sure enough, Blackwall was stomping away from Evelyn, blood once again pour from his nose. Evelyn’s shoulders were heaving, a new bruise was spreading over her left side and she had a new cut on one arm. 

“Pardon me, Lady Trevelyan,” Cullen said, nodding his good-bye to Evelyn’s sister-in-law and heading for the training ring. He heard the lady say something else to Bull, but couldn’t quite pick it up. He kept his eyes on the woman who had changed his world - a force of nature indeed. Her muscles shifted and moved her the skin of her stomach, her eyes flashed when she saw him step over the barrier to enter the ring, her chest rose and fell with each breath. Heat stirred in the pit of Cullen’s stomach. The things this woman did to him. 

“Come to retrieve me< Commander,” Evelyn challenged, eyebrow raised. 

“You just made Blackwall use words I didn’t even know were in his vocabulary,” he said. Stopping right next to her, he dropped his voice in the way he knew she loved. “I was rather hoping you could make me use words I didn’t know were in my vocabulary. Perhaps in a more...private setting.”

Evelyn’s eyes narrowed. 

“I know what you’re doing, Commander,” she cooed. “Corralling the Inquisitor before she makes more of a scene - training nearly naked, making the big burly man bleed.”

“You should be more worried about me that the Sisters, dressed like that,” Cullen rumbled. “I’m far more likely to make a scene then them.”

Evelyn’s shiver was visible and Cullen cursed himself. The point was to distract her enough to get her upstairs, not get himself riled up. 

“You’re playin ga dangerous game,” Evelyn breathed.

“Is it working?” Cullen asked. 

“Yes.” Her voice was barely a whisper now. 

“Good. Let’s go.” He slipped an arm around her waist and led her towards the stairs that wound up the backside of the tower. He was quickly running out of patience. 


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Using sex to deal with feelings. Porn with plot.

Thank Andraste they had finally finished renovations on the back hallways of the keep because Evelyn had him pushed against the wall, lips pressed hard against his, and her hand down his pants. He could feel his senses leaving him, chased away by the needy moans in Evelyn’s throat and her fingers on his cock. He had just enough power of though to be aware that traffic in the hallway was negligent and to pull away for just a moment.

“Ev, darlin’,” he gasped out. She hummed low in her throat in response. “Maybe we should get to your rooms first?”

Her response was to bite his bottom lip, sending a shudder down Cullen’s body. He almost broke right there, but somehow managed to grasp Evelyn by the shoulders and push her back from him. 

“Evelyn, not here,” he gasped. Evelyn’s eyes snapped with indignation and challenge, eliciting another shudder from him, realizing what kind of night it was going to be; A night where she needed to be in control; she needed to hold power. The thought crossed his mind that perhaps sex was not the best way to deal with the flood of emotions she’s experienced today, but if this was what she wanted, he’d go with it. “We get to your rooms andI’mm all yours.”

He could almost see the debate going on in her mind behind her eyes. After a few moments, she nodded her head and then turned on her heel and began marching towards her chambers. Cullen sighed and followed close behind, not bothering to adjust his hard cock in his pants as the they wove their way through the maze of dimly lit corridors. 

He was safe until they reached the top of the stairs in Evleyn’s chambers. Then she turned on him and with one hand in the center of his chest, pushed him back against the wall once again. She was on him in an instant, lips hot on his neck, head pressed to his member, hips rolling. Cullen let go of his control then and gave himself to her her, just as he’d promised.

She had his armor off, hands running over his stomach without him even realizing what was happening. Her lips and teeth trailed a path down his chest, across his abs, biting at his hip bones until his knees were shaking so bad he could barely stand. The things this woman did to him; the trembling mess he turned him into would have been terrifying  to him once. Until he understood what it mean to trust, to love, the way that he and Evelyn did. Now, he reveled in it; in the ability and comfort in trusting someone so much that he could let himself go. 

Her mouth around him cut off all thoughts or reflection. He dropped his head back against the wall, not even bothering to stiffle the moans escaping him. He sunk his fingers into her hair. She worked him up and down, pressing im all the way to the back of her throat and out again, swirling her tongue around the tip of him. It was diving and sinful all at the same time. 

Cullen risked a clance downward to see Evelyn’s eyes already on him, nearly black with desire. Another moan escaped him and triumph lit Evelyn’s face. And then mischief, as she swallowed around him, the tightness of her throat squeezing him until his vision narly went dark. 

“Fuck, Ev.” His groan turned into a whine as she pulled off him and stood up. He starred at her, panting, fighting the urge to throw hiself at her. Evelyn hooked two fingers into the top of his pants and yanked hi forward, leading him to the couch and pushing hi down. 

“Pant’s off,” she said, her voice low and rought. Cullen complied immediately as Evelyn peeled off her own pants and then climbed on his lap. She wasted no time in lowering herself onto him, dropping her head back in extacy and Cullen could not help but press his lips to her exposed neck. The move earned him a gasp and then ahnd shoving him back. 

She rode him relentlessly, their moans filing the room, her head squeezing and sliding over him until he was lost in sensations - pleasure, fire, love, and desire. Under his hands, he felt Evelyn stiffening, tightening. He looked up, his eyes locked onto hers. They were wild and desperate and sad. Cullen’s heart clenched  and he slid his hands up her body to grasp her face. She gasped out a sound that sounded like his name and pressed her forehead to his. 

He felt her come; saw it in her eyes as strangled shourt left her throat. Her back arched, her eyes fluttered closed, and her head dropped back as she pulled Cullen over the edge with her. 

When he came back to himself, Evelyn was curled into him, her face pressed tightly to his neck. He could feel hot tears on his skin. 

“Ev?” He asked, running a hand down her spine> her only response was to cling to him tighter. “Evelyn, darlin,’ it’s okay. I’ve got you.”

With a sigh, he stood up, shuddering as he pulled out of her, and then carried her to the bed and laid her down. He lay down next to her so that they were facing one another and wrapped his arms around her again.

“I almost lost control today, Cullen,” she eventually whispered. “How does he keep doing this to me? He’s not here; he didn’t hurt me; why can’t I just get past it? I hate that it still gets to me?”

Cullen sighed and brushed a few pieces of stray hair out of her face. She looked up at hi, her eyes shining with unshed tears. 

“There are some wounds that cut so deep they can be reopened at the slightest brush. It’s only been five years since you got out. Its been over ten years since Kinloch and there are still times when I feel that I’m back there - a familiar face or name; the tingle of magic; somtimes even the smell of blood or a flash of lightening. It’s okay that you still struggle, Ev. It doesn’t make you weak or stupid or foolish. It makes you a human, who was hur and is trying to figure out how to live with what happened. it will take time, probably a long time, but that’s okay.”

“Promise?” Evelyn whispered. Cullen smiled and gently kissed the tip of her nose.

“Promise,” he said. Evelyn gave him a tight smile. A smile that told him there was still something bothering her. “What else is wrong?”

She didn’t respond right away, working her jaw, running her tongue over her teeth. Cullen just waited, letting her sort out waht she wanted to say. 

“The mark, what it did today, it’s never done that before. Not even after Adamant, the mark never flared, never got out of control. It...concerns me.”

“Okay. What do you want to do?”

Evelyn shook her head. 

“Nothing, for now. Solas checks it regularly and its not grown since Haven. It could be any number of things - growing stress, exhaustion; maybe the longer i have it, the more connected to my emotions it becomes, and this reacts.” Evelyn sighed. “I just don’t know if I can manage another problem, Cullen.”

“Well, what if we keep an eye on the mark - you and I - but we don’t worry about it until there is no more for us to work with.” Cullen pulled the blankets up over Evelyn and himself, and slipped his arm under her neck and pulled her into his side. She lay her head on his shoulder splaying her hand across his chest. “Until then, keep focused on the priorities we’ve set. No use in trying to solve a problem we don’t even know exists yet.”

He felt Evelyn nod against his shoulder; felt her relax into him. Cullen pressed another kiss to the top of her head and waited until he heard breathing slow before letting himself drift to sleep too.


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arbor Wilds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today's chapter is short and rather boring but I felt the need to post. Celebrity deaths don't usually get to me but I was rocked by the loss of Anthony Bourdain today; totally and wholly devastated in a way that is taking me by surprise. It breaks my heart that someone so full of love, compassion, knowledge, and insight; someone who saw beauty in the painful, hope in the sorrow; someone who left such an impact on so many made the choice to take his life. It is so hard for me to process. He and my Evelyn would have gotten along so well - they see others as human first and everything else second; they love when they could hate; they seek understanding when there is conflict; they love deeply and fight vigorously for those who "belong" to them; they say "Fuck You" to the oppressors and use their wit to put the unkind in their place. So, here's to you Anthony Bourdain. Thank you for showing me the world in such a beautiful, unique and enlightening way. Your light in the world will be sorely, sorely missed.
> 
> If you are having suicidal thoughts, please, please reach out to someone. There is no shame in having these thoughts; no shame in asking for help. You are not alone. You matter. If there is no one in your life that you feel like to you want to/can confide in, please call the National Suicide Prevention Hotline at 1-800-273-8255. 
> 
> If you know someone that you are concerned may be having suicidal thoughts, ask them. Be direct with them - it can help lessen any embarrassment or shame they may feel in having such thoughts. Tell them that you care; that you're there for them and then find them professional help. In suicide prevention training, they teach us to think of every person as having a brick wall that makes up our life (best friend = brick; school/work = brick, etc.). People with suicidal thoughts feel as though they have no bricks; or so few that their life is not worth keeping. You cannot rebuild the wall for them, but you can be a brick in that wall that helps keep it from falling.

Corypheus was out there. He’d been spotted by scouts. He hadn’t been this close since Haven. Memories of him stalking toward her, invaded Evelyn’s mind as she prepared to join the battle. She teetered somewhere between furious at the damage he’d already caused and terrified that she may actually have to face him today. To make matters worse, Cullen was already out there, fighting with his men. She had new sympathy for all the times he’s had to wait for her. It was torture.

“My scouts report what looks like an ancient Eleven temple in the valley,” Liliana said as she approached. “I would wager a guess that is where Corypheus and Samson are heading.”

“Thank you.” Evelyn knew her voice was tight, strained, but didn’t try to cover it up. There was no point with Leliana. It was one of her favorite things about their relationship - each had learned that it was usually a waste of time and energy to cover their thoughts or feelings up because the other would see through it all anyway. Evelyn felt her friend’s heavy silence and snorted. “Don’t do it. Leli.”

“Do what?” Leliana’s attempt at ignorance wasn’t convincing.

“Pre-emptive good-byes and the if-you-die-I-just-want-you-to-know speech.” Evelyn slid her dagger into place on her back, letting the familiar weight of her weapons comfort her. “If I die, I die. No words or well-wishes will change that.”

“Well, I suppose I should expect no less a sentiment from you,” Leliana chuckled. Evelyn looked at her friend and smiled. “If you do die, however, do make sure you take Corypheus with you or we will be well and truly fucked.”

Evelyn burst out laughing, drawing looks from the surrounding soldiers. Leliana’s eyes twinkled and the corners of her mouth pulled upward.

“You have my word, Spymaster,” Evelyn nodded and then looked to her team. “Cass, Solas, Blackwall - let’s go.”

_______________________________________

“What. In. The. Void. Just. Happened.” Evelyn leaned against the enormous door they’s just slammed between them and the resurected Corypheus.

“Something must be keeping his soul...his spirit, alive,” Solas conjectured.

“You have got to be kidding,” Cassandra panted next to Evelyn.

“So how in the fuck am I supposed to kill him?” Evelyn groaned.

“Perhaps we should focus on finding Samson for now and worry about Corypheus later?” Blackwall suggested. “One problem at a time.”

______________________________________

 

“Solas, those are elves,” Evelyn whispered. She glanced at her friend’s face but his expression was schooled into one of neutrality. “Do you know what they are?”

The neutrality broke for just a moment and Evelyn caught a glimpse of the truth - he knew. What they were; who they were; where they came from; how they were here - she wasn’t sure what he knew, but he knew something. And he lied to her. Evelyn looked at the Guardians again and then back to Solas. They stood to nearly the same height; carried themselves the same way; moved in the same, lilthe way that Solas always had. She glanced at Cass, who met her gaze with a raised eyebrow. The Seeker had noticed as well.

______________________________________

Evelyn plunged her blade in the back of the last Red Templar and stepped back, sighing with relief. After a quick check to make sure her team was okay, she turned to Samson. He was still laying on the old stone floor, wailing and whimpering in pain. Dagna had really outdone herself with the ruin. Samson hadn’t even put up a fight.

“Does anyone have any rope?” She asked. Solas appeared at her side and held out a rope. Evelyn accepted it without looking the elf in the eye. Whatever he was hiding, she would have to deal with it later. Now, she had to focus on Corypheus and the Well of Sorrows - whatever it was.

“Do you intend to leave him here?” Cassandra asked as Evelyn tied the former Templar’s hands behind his back.

“Leliana has no doubt already sent people to track us.” Evelyn stood up. “They can find him. We have other things to worry about.”

“You...you’ll never defeat him,” Samson gasped at Evelyn’s feet. She glanced down at him.

“Watch me,” she responded.

______________________________________

The choice was among the more difficult she’d been faced with - drink the Well herself or let Morrigan drink it. Evelyn had no desire to give Morrigan something of power - she did not trust the woman. Nor did she want to drink the well herself. She had no idea what the effects would be; how it would alter her, change her. Were she not Inquisitor, it may be a risk she was willing to take. But she was Inquisitor and Well could damage the Inquisition in ways she couldn’t fathom.

“Very well, Morrigan,” she said. “It’s all you.”


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisitor and Team jump through a magic mirror and end up at Skyhold, leaving Cullen in a panic in the Arbor Wilds.

Evelyn stepped through the eluvian into the small storage room at Skyhold. In front of her, Morrigan, Cassandra, Blackwall, and Solas were covered in dirt and sweat and blood. They still smelled of the battlefield, now hundreds of miles away. 

“Shit.” 

Cullen was going to lose his mind when he realized he was gone. 

Without a word, Evelyn rushed for the door, not thinking about how this was going to look to anyone at Skyhold. She had to get a raven to the Arbor Wilds. 

“Inquisitor!” Josephine cried out in surprise as Evelyn strode across the Main Hall towards the tower. “What...How...I don’t understand.”

Evelyn did not stop but signaled Josephine to follow her. 

“We were cornered by Corypheus,” she huffed, taking the steps up to the rookery two at a time. “There was an eluvian and we took it. But everyone else is still there. When they can’t find us…”

“Oh dear,” Josephine breathed. 

“Yeah.” Evelyn nodded, turning to the Ambassador. Behind them, the other has followed and stood waiting. For what, Evelyn wasn’t sure. “I need the fastest raven, Josie.”

“That one.” Josephine pointed to a cage without hesitation. 

“I could go,” Morrigan offered, her voice breathy. Something about it made Evelyn’s skin crawl. For at least the tenth time in the short while since Morrigan had drunk the well, Evelyn wondered if she’d made a mistake.  Solas met Evelyn’s gaze, the same concern in his expression that she was feeling. The uneasy feeling Evelyn had since seeing the elves at the temple rose in her chest but once again, she pushed it away. There were other things to worry about; always other things. “I can ge there quicker.”

Evelyn weighed the options. She didn’t particularly want Morrigan to leave - she didn’t know if she’d return and she had all the knowledge of the well in her mind. But she needed to le the rest of the Inquisition know that she was alive and well. 

“Fine,” Evelyn sighed. “But please try not to get distracted.”

Morrigan’s eye snapped into focus for the first time since drinking the well. Evelyn was almost relieved to see the familiar expression on the woman’s face.

“I can manage to carry a simple message, Inquisitor,” the woman snapped. Without another word, she transformed into a raven and flew out of the tower. 

“Well, alright then.” Evelyn turned to her remaining people. “Cass, Thom, after you’ve cleaned up, we need to ensure the defenses are shored up and ready. Solas, please do the same with the mages - protection spells, early warning traps, whatever you can think of. We may have done significant damage to Corypheus but without our army and the Commander absent, we are more vulnerable than usual. Josie, I need you to think of a way to explain our presence here. I don’t care if you have to say that we walked in the Fade again, I don’t want anyone to know about the eluvian. It’s too dangerous.”

After they had all gone their own ways, Evelyn let out a deep breath before heading back down to the main floor of the keep. She nearly ran into Solas while crossing the rotunda. 

“Damn it, Solas,” Evelyn cried out. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“My apologies, dalen,” he said. “I simply met to catch a moment of your time. I know I suggested that we should take the power of the well for ourselves, but I think I was perhaps wrong. Morrigan seems quite changed. I am glad you did not take of it yourself.”

Once again, she was presented with the chance to confront him about what secrets he was holding. But she couldn't do it. The thought that he was lying to her was too much after all that had already happened that day. So she just smiled and nodded, thanking him quietly for his advice and assistance and continued to the Main Hall. 

Elizabeth met her at the door. 

“Inquisitor, they said you back,” she said, eyes running over her body. “But the army…”

Dozens of nobles hung around them like vultures, waiting to hear bits of news and gossip, eyes darting back and forth between the two women. Evelyn nodded toward the door to her quarters. 

“I could use some help with my armor,” Evelyn said. Elizabeth caught her meaning quicking and nodded her head. 

“Of course, Inquisitor,” she said. “It would be my pleasure.”

For once, Evelyn didn’t have to fight her way through a throng of needing nobles. None of them wants to get near the mess and smell of the Inquisitor fresh from battle. Never mind that battle was what afforded them their continued luxury. Maker forbid they be reminded that people - her people - were fighting and dying to they could war their fancy clothes and ridiculous masks and…

“Evelyn,” Elizabeth whispered at her side. “You’re growling.”

“I’m frustrated,” Evelyn answered. Elizabeth didn’t answer until they were safely behind the closed door of Evelyn’s quarters. 

“What happened?” Elizabeth asked. In the four months since she had arrived with Arden, Elizabeth had attached herself to Evelyn’s side with a surprising, yet oddly heart-warming way. Besides her brothers, Elizabeth was the only person at Skyhold who had known her before she was Inquisitor. It was comforting to be seen as more than just that. Unspoken, they had done away with pretense and the Game and just been...family. Honest. Direct. Supportive. Infuriating. Loving. 

“A fucking mess is what.” Evelyn started stripping her armor off as soon as she reached the top step of her rooms. “Just a fucking mess. As usual.”

“Arden?” Elizabeth asked quietly. Evelyn glanced over her shoulder before ducking into her water closet. 

“He was fine when I last saw him. He and Rawlin were together.” She didn’t say how early in the battle that was; how easily something could have happened. 

“And how did you and your companions get back to Skyhold?” Elizabeth’s voice was muted by the wooden door Evelyn had installed on the water closet. Muttering curses under her breath as she quickly wiped herself down with the available cold water. A proper bath would have to wait until later. 

“It’s…complicated,” Evelyn said as she stepped out and made her way to the wardrobe. Elizabeth’s eyebrow shot up but she didn’t push. Despite how close they had become, there were still confidential matters that Evelyn didn’t share with anyone outside her Circle. The knowledge of the eluvian was one such thing. 

“Well, thank the Maker that you’re safe,” Elizabeth said quietly. “Though, I wonder how the Commander is dealing with your sudden absence from the battlefield.”

Evelyn sighed. 

“Oh, he is deffinately loosing his mind.”

__________________________________________________

 

“What do you mean, the Inquisitor is gone?”

“We...we can’t find her, sir,” the soldier stuttered. After hours of battle, a nasty cut on his leg and a growing black eye, Cullen’s patience had disappeared by the time he found his way to the ancient temple deep in the Arbor Wilds. 

“And exactly how do you lose the bloody Inquisitor, soldier?” He growled. The soldier stammered and shook in front of him until Cullen was ready to grab the lad by the shoulders and shake him. And then Maker-sent Scout Harding appeared at his side. 

“Commander, I may know what happened, but you’ll have to come with me,” Harding said. Cullen ground his teeth but nodded and followed the drawf. “The Inquisitor and her party were last seen going into an inner chamber of the temple, accompanied by elves.” 

“Elves?” Culled asked. “Dalish?”

“No, something else. Taller. Older.”

“What?” Cullen glanced down at Harding who just shrugged.

“It looks like there was a pool at some point,” Harding continued. “But it’s empty now. And at the back of the room, we found an eluvian, just like the Lady Morrigan thought there would be.”

“Intact?” He demanded. “It works?”

“Not anymore. It’s shattered,” Harding said. “But I had Adalyn look at it. She said there is still magic in it, like it was used recently.”

“You think the Inquisitor went through?” Cullen asked, his stomach twisting and turning. Evelyn had told him about the Crosswords. It was extensive. Even if they had made it there, finding the eluvian at Skyhold would be challenging. Harding shrugged but looked hopeful.

“It’s the only thing that makes sense, yeah? Adalyn is inside if you want to talk to her.”

Cullen thanked Harding and hurried toward the door she pointed to, trying not to convey the mix of panic and hope churning in his chest. He paused when he entered the room, looking at the courtyard. Trees and wildlife grew between cracked stone. The ceiling was open to the sky above. He could feel the old magic in the room with his lingering Templar abilities. It was foreign and yet familiar at the same time - unlike most magic he had seen in his life. It took him several moments to recognize why is felt vaguely familiar, though. It was similar to Solas’s magic. He didn’t dwell on the realization now, though. Instead, he hurried down the stairs to where Adalyn was studying the broken eluvian leaning against the back wall. 

“Commander,” Adalyn said, no looking away from the artifact. “I’ve been expecting you.”

“I’m glad to see you’re alright,” Cullen responded. “What can you tell me about the mirror?”

“It is difficult to tell if Evelyn used the artifact.” Adalyn sighed and straightened to look at him. “She had me study the one at Skyhold with Solas and Dorian but the magic is still very...foreign to me. The glass is broken but the magic still lingers. Considering the lack of other explanations, I’d say it is likely they used the mirror but I’m waiting for Dorian.”

“I’m here.” Dorian approached without his normal swagger. There was a cut on his neck and a limp in his left side. Behind him, Bull looked worse - blood running down the side of his face and several lacerations and bruises all over his unclothed upper body. Cullen wondered if he looked as bad. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off, he was beginning to feel the toll of battle. 

Without another word, Dorian leaned over the examine the mirror. While he worked, Adalyn healed the worst of Bull’s injuries but Cullen waved her off. The fatigue of battle brought on cravings for lyrium and he magic in the room was already making it worse. He needed the pain to keep him focused. 

Liliana, Arden, and Rawlin staggered in and Adalyn healed them as well. Leliana shared what little information she’d been able to find on the mysterious elves - mostly discarded weapons and pieces of armor. Any felled bodies had already been removed and the living vanished just like the Inquisitor.

“Samson?” Cullen asked.

“Being taken back to base camp as we speak,” Leliana said quietly. “We’ll get the worst of his injuries healed and then prepare him for transfer back to Skyhold. I assume you will want to accompany him.”

“It would be for the best,” Cullen said. “If what we found at the Shrine of Dumat is any indication of the amount of red lyrium he’s been consuming, the withdrawal will hit hard and fast. I don’t want any of our men to have to deal with that on their own.”

“We’ll send along part of our lyrium reserves, “Leliana offered. “It may not do much in comparison to the red stuff but perhaps it will make him more manageable.”

“It will have to do,” Cullen conceded as Dorian finally approached. “Anything?”

“I think it likely that is how the got out,” Dorian sighed. “Adalyn is correct. The magic is fresh. There were also traces of what felt like Solas’s magic. He was probably attempting to leave us a trail or a clue to let us know where they went. The trouble is, the magic in this temple is so similar to his that it’s difficult to be sure.”

So Cullen wasn’t the only one who had noticed.

“Do you think they made it back to Skyhold?” Cullen asked. To his dismay, Dorian shook his head.

“I don’t know,’ the mage said, his voice tight and sad. “We don’t know how many of these there are left in the world or where they go. If Morrigan is with them, they will have a significantly better chance of finding there way.”

“Do not forget that Evelyn has walked in the Fade twice,” Rawlin offered. “Even without Morrigan, I have faith that she will find her way.”

“If they are at Skyhold, the Inquisitor will send word right away,” Leliana said, her gaze steady on Cullen. “If they ended up somewhere else, she will get word to us when she can.”

“How long will it take for a raven to get here?” Cullen asked.

“Two, three days, at most,” Leliana said. Cullen nodded. 

“Then let us start re-gathering our forces and ensuring the area is secure. It will take me a few days to get things ready. Rylen will see to leading the main force back to Skyhold before returning to Griffon Wing. I will lead a small, elite group back with Samson. Skyhold is vulnerable; we need to get our best men back.”


	41. Chapter 41

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Figuring things out in the Arbor Wilds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet but today will be a two-fer

The remainder of the day and the next passed in a blur. The normal toll of battle - pulling the forces back to camp, tending to the wounded, counting the dead, coordinating watches and making plans on moving the massive force back to Skyhold - was more oppressive than usual when paired with his anxiety over Evelyn. It was well into the night when he finally ventured out of his tent to find food and something to drink to help him sleep. The mess tent was empty, save for a few stragglers and Arden, sitting alone in the back corner. Cullen grabbed a few meat pies and a pint of ale from the cask and went to join Evelyn’s brother.

“How are you faring?” he asked Arden. The other man snorted. 

“It has been a long time since I’ve been in a battle of any sort, and this is unlike anything I’ve ever seen,” Arden paused. “Is there any news about my sister?”

Cullen shook his head. 

“We believe she is safe, but it will be a few days before we know.”

“I’m...I’m not sure I understand.”

“Me either, if I were to be honest, but those that know better tell me she is likely somewhere safe,” Cullen sighed. “There are things I’ve seen with the Inquisition - magic, things beyond explanation. I’ve also seen Evelyn do incredible things; survive things no one else could. She’s tough, she’s smart and she’s got really good people with her.”

“She is rather remarkable,” Arden agreed. “You hear things - stories that you can’t believe - and then you realize its not just stories, it’s true. The stores about her charm, her intelligence, her skill in battle, her kindness. That she could accept me, after…”

Arden’s voice tightened and he cleared his throat and he looked away from Cullen. Several emotions played across his face before he schooled it into neutrality. 

“She is so unfailingly kind when she should be hateful; so forgiving when she should be bitter,” Arden mused. “It is difficult for me to understand.”

“I felt that way when I met her,” Cullen offered, recognizing a man drowing in in regret. It was a feeling he knew all too well. “I came to the Inquisition from the Gallows in Kirkwall. Terrible things happened there. Some I helped in, some I watched, other - the worst of the violations - I knew were happening but turned a blind eye. At first, it was because I didn’t want to believe that it was happening, then it was because I didn’t know what to do. Evelyn knew when she met me about all the things I did, the kind of man I had been, but she never says anything; never treated me differently than any of the others. She gave me a chance to be better. That’s just who she is.”

Arden snorted. 

“I don’t know if I’ll ever understand how she came out of our home that way.”

“Some people shape themselves in reflection of their environment. Others shape themselves in spite of it,” Cullen paused. “And, as it turns out, its never to late to start reshaping yourself in a better way.”

“Thank the Maker for that,” Arden breathed. A comfortable silence settled between the two as they finished their meals. Arden excused himself. Cullen was just finishing his meal when Harding rushed up. 

“Sister Nightengale needs to see you straight away, Commander,” she said breathlessly. “It’s the Inquisitor.”

Cullen didn’t even bother cleaning up his food before hurrying for Leliana’s tent. He was the last to arrive. Cass, Leliana, and Josephine standing shoulder to shoulder, eyes on Morrigan who stood in the center of the room. 

“What’s happening?” He demanded. Morrigan offered him a small smile. 

“The Inquisitor is safe at Skyhold. As are the others,” Morrigan said. 

“How are you here? Were you not with them? How do you know she is safe?”

Morrigan’s eyes brow shot up. 

“I am a mage, no?” She said with ridicule. “I went through the eluvian with the Inquisitor and the others and then I flew here to deliver word from the Inquisitor that they are safe and well.”

“Oh.” It took Cullen a moment to process what the mage was saying. “Well, thank you. For your haste.”

“If you are satisfied, Commander, Morrigan was about to tell us what happened at the temple.” Leliana’s amusement with him was clear but Cullen ignored, choosing to go for the stoic nod rather than succumb to embarrassment over his reaction. But Lelian’s amusement and Cullen’s embarrassment quickly evaporated as Morrigan reported the events that transpired in the temple. The Advisors listened in near silence as Morrigan reported. When she was finished, she transformed into an eagle and flew out of the tent before any of them could ask questions.

“Well…” Josie attempted to say something but failed to find words. Leliana’s eyes lingered on the entrance to the tent, where Morrigan had exited moments earlier. 

“I can’t imagine what Evelyn was thinking letting that...woman, drink from the well,” Cassandra finally said. 

“It does seem like an awful lot of power to give away. All the knowledge.” Josie agreed. Cullen chose not to chime in. It must be the lack of sleep but he was still having a hard time understanding how a pool could contain knowledge. He’s already embarrassed himself once tonight; he didn’t need to open his mouth about things he didn’t understand.

“She was thinking that the drinking the Well could alter who she was and it wasn’t a risk she was willing to take,” Leliana finally spoke, finally looking at the rest of them. “She knew we needed the knowledge but couldn’t fully understand the risks. Letting Morrigan do it was her best option. We need to get back to Skyhold so that we can get an accurate report on the events at the temple. I fear that Morrigan’s typically self-centered perspective on the events that occur around her is far more dramatic as usual due to the intake of the Well.”

“I can have my elite unit ready to head back tomorrow with Samson,” Cullen offered, thankful to have something to discuss for which he was qualified. The others nodded in agreement. They spent well into the night formalizing plans and communication routes for moving the forces back to Skyhold. By the time he laid down on his bedroll, the morning was only a few hours away but he didn’t mind. Evelyn was safe; she’s survived another encounter with Corypheus and tomorrow, he would be on his way home to see her. 


	42. Chapter 42

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blackwall is doing better. Cullen finally gets back to Skyhold and smut ensues.

Evelyn sighed and attempted to run her hand through her messy, knotted hair and plopped down on the bench next to Blackwall. The Tavern was eerily quiet with the main force away. It had been weeks of this silence. Once, she thought it was all she wanted. Now, she couldn't wait to have her people back; to hear the bustling and the shouting and the laughter. And the multitude of distractions they all provided for her so she had an excuse to avoid the nobility hovering around.

“Long day, Inquisitor?” Blackwall asked with a barely disguised chuckle. Evelyn lightly punched him. 

“Fucking nobles,” she muttered as she lifted a hand to signal Cabot for a drink. “I cannot believe I have to deal with their bullshit while we’re fighting a Maker-damned war for the survival of the world. I thought I was done with this shit when I ran away from home.”

“As it turns out, running doesn’t solve much,” Blackwall quipped. Evelyn turned to him in shock, mouth open. The older man’s cheeks reddened. 

“Why Thom, are you making self-deprecating jokes to deal with a difficult topic in a light-hearted manner?” She playfully gasped. “Because that’s my move.”

Now Blackwall couldn’t hold back his chuckle. Evelyn smiled, the sound of her friend’s laugh after months of quiet gloom almost enough to bring tears to her eyes.

“I thought I’d give it a try,” he said finally, waiting for Cabot to deliver Evelyn’s drink and walk away. 

“I’ve been trying to get you to move on for months,” Evelyn took a drink, letting her favorite whiskey burn down her throat. She flashed Cabot a grateful smile. Maker, bless that man. “What got you here?”

She expected him to say Josephine or time or something sensible. Instead, he bumped her shoulder with his. 

“You,” he said. “Or rather, how you treated Arden when he came back. After everything that he’d done - hadn’t done - you forgave him. He’d been here for a week or so; I was up late in the barn and overheard you two talking in the courtyard. He apologized to you for what I’m sure was the hundredth time.”

“Oh Maker,” Evelyn groaned She didn’t remember the conversation he was talking about but she was sure she’d been callous. Arden had only stopped apologizing shortly before they had left for the Arbor Wilds. And then, only because after saying she was past it for what felt like the millionth time, she told him she did not have the time or energy to rehash the entire ordeal every day and if he didn’t stop she’d beat all of the apologies out of him. 

“You said that he’d fucked up, badly, and it had caused a lot of pain. But people fuck up and cause pain and that doesn’t mean they don’t deserve a second chance if they don’t deserve a second chance if they own up to it. Dwelling on it isn’t going to change what happened but it will taint all the good things going on right now.”

Evelyn struggled with a response but ultimately kept with the mood. 

“Damn. I sound pretty smart,” she said, making Blackwall laugh again. They left it there, not delving further into emotions or platitude. They chatted over drinks until the door to the tavern banged open and a familair growl met her ears, setting her insides on fire immediately. 

“Where is she?” Cullen demanded. Evelyn jumped out of her seat so fast, she knocked over her drink. Cullen’s gaze fell on her, ran up and down her body once as if to make sure she was okay. Then he started for her, his strides full of puprose, eyes dark and intense. Evelyn could not move, pinned to the spot by his intensity, desire licking at her core so instantaneously it made her dizzy. 

When he reached her, his arms enveloped her and pulled her to him, lifting her clean off the floor. Evelyn slipped her arms around him as he buried his face in her neck. 

“Maker take me, Evelyn Trevelyan, you scared me,” he said, his breath hot on her skin. His grip on her was so tight she could barely breathe but she didn’t care. She tightened her hold on him.

“I know, Sweetheart,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

Cullen grunted. 

“I’m stealing her, Thom,” he said. Behind them, Blackwall chuckled. 

“All yours, Commander.”

Evelyn felt more than heard the rumble in Cullen’s chest. Without any move to set her down, Cullen started for the door. 

“Cullen,” Evelyn tried to pull back. “There are a lot of nobles here right now. They could see…”

“Let them.” Cullen’s growl was the only response she got. A shiver ran down Evelyn’s body and she pulled herself up for enough to wrap her legs around Cullen’s waist. She pressed her lips to his neck as he carried her through the courtyard toward the stairs to his office. She could hear Bull and Sera howling at them loudly from the stables and flipped them a rude gesture as she nipped Cullen’s ear lobe. He growled and moved his hands to her ass, squeazing, eliciting a moan from her. 

They barely made it to Cullen’s office before they started tearing clothes off. As soon as the door was shut, Cullen had her pressed against it, pulling at her top. Lips and hands were everywhere, both of them panting and gapsing until their clothes were on the floor and naked bodies were pressed against each other. There was no foreplay; no teasing. Cullen just hitched her leg over his hip and plunged into her. Evelyn dropped her head back with a thud agains the wooden door and let the pleasure take her. 

“Oh, Maker’s Breath, Darlin’, you feel so good,” Cullen groaned. Evelyn forced her eyes open and met his. “I was so scared, Ev. I…”

“Shh.” She took his face in her hands and kissed him lightly. “I’m here. I”m safe. With you. Its all okay, Sweetheart.”

Cuelln sighed and closed his eyes as he pressed his forehead to hers. Then he started moving insider her, slow fo the first few thrusts and he opened his eyes again. Their gaze locked, his hips quickened, their breath caught. Evleyn’s head dropped back again, her eyes closed, estacy rolling over her as Cullen pounded into her fast, hard, deep. Her world narrowed to the feel of his skin on hers; his hot breath as it tickled her neck with every kiss and nibble; to his fingers that dug into her hips until she was sure there would be bruises. He drove her higher and higher and impossibly higher until she fell over the edge. Her body convulsed and her scream started deep in her chest, joined quickly by Cullen’s roar. All of Skyhold had to have heard them. 

When she finally came down, Cullen had somehow managed ot move them to the couch and pull a blanket over their naked bodies. Evleyn shighed and turned into her lover, wrapping her arm around his broad chest. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” she said, dropping a kiss on his chest. He gruted, running a hand over her hair and down her arm. 

“You did what you had to do,” he said. “Next time you’re running from an Old God Magister though, try to leave a note or something so I don’t worry so much.”

Evelyn burst out laughing. 

“Oh sure, Commander.” She looked up to see him smilling down at her. A big smile, one that crinkled the skin around his danging honey eyes. “I’ll make sure to do that.”

There was movement by the door and then Sera’s drifted through the crack by the floor. 

“If she’s laughin’ you ain’t doin’ it right, Commander Tight Pants!”

Cullen and Evelyn shouted at the same time.

“Go away, Sera!”


	43. Chapter 43

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's get the bastard

Evelyn ran her eyes over the black armor Sera wore. It was a well-made replica of Evelyn’s Raven Knight armor, the raven emblazoned on the chest. Standing up straight, hair and face covered, knives strapped to her back, the elf really did look like the Raven Knight. Evelyn heaved a deep sigh. 

“it looks great,” she said. Leliana arched an eyebrow.

“You seem displeased,” the Spymaster said. Sera snorted. 

“She’s just worried I’ll muck it all up,” the elf quipped. “Which I won’t. ‘Cause I promised and I always do my promises, yeah?”

“Yes, of course you do.” Evelyn sighed again. Sera wasn’t wrong, on either account, but this was still a hard thing for her to let go. “We’re keeping the gear in that hidden closet I found?”

Evelyn had insisted on the renovations in her tower being the last in the keep and they were now just getting started. In the last several weeks, they had found several hidden closets and passageways below the Main Hall and Evelyn’s chambers. 

“Yes, the bigger one, behind your library,” Leliana confirmed. “So we can set up a weapons rack and armor stand along with a dest and a small bookshelf. No one but you uses that library and traffic down there is limited and slow. It will be the perfect place to house the Raven Knight.”

“Can I take this off now?” Sera whined. “I look too respectable like.”

Leliana snorted. “Maker forbid.”

Sera made a face at Leliana as she slid into Evelyn’s water closet to change. The three of them continued to hammer out the details of the new, temporary Raven Knight. When Sera finally skipped down the stairs, Leliana pulled a piece of paper out of her robes and held it out for Evelyn.

“It’s all ready, Evelyn,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically soft. “We’ve got him. We’ve got Ruslan.”

 

___________________

 

“You’re sure?” Adrienna asked. Three months at Skyhold had already done wonders for the girl. She’d traded in her dress for leathers, her jewels for daggers and her withdrawn demeanor for a bright laugh and confident smile. Now though, her face was grave, her eyes snapping with something Evelyn couldn’t quite make out - anger, fierceness, maybe both.

“The Teryn in Ostwick has given King Allistar rights to charge and hold Ruslan on all counts,” Evelyn confirmed. She met Cullen’s eyes over Adrienna’s head for a moment. HIs face was neutral, but she could see the flicker in his eyes - the flint of victory; satisfaction that justice would be served.

“And the estate?” Arden asked. He and Elizabeth stood by the fireplace in Josephine’s office. The same place they had stood just months ago when they’d come here seeking asylum. So much had changed since then.

“It will go to you,” Evelyn said. Arden blinked at her as if surprised but then nodded. She’d thought about taking it for herself but the truth was, she didn’t want it. Skyhold was her home now. The Trevelyan estate held too many bad memories for her to ever want to go back. Evelyn looked back at her niece. “The charges must be brought in Denerim, in front of the King and Queen. You may go if you wish but you don’t have to.”

"Do I..." Adrienna's voice trailed off. "Do I have to tell them what happened to me?" 

"No. Not unless that is what you want." Evelyn knelt down in front of her niece and took her hands in hers. "We have evidence of many other crimes. Enough that he will never hurt anyone else again. There is no need for you to say anything if you don't want." 

Adrienna bit her lip and stared out the window of the office for several long moments. When she looked back at Evelyn her expression was all steel and determination. 

“I don't want to tell them what happened, but I want to go,” she said. "I want him to see me. I want him to see that I...that I'm strong."

Evelyn nodded, biting her lip and wiling the tears that suddenly stung her eyes not to fall.

“As would I,” Elizabeth said stepping forward. Evelyn stood, pushing back more tears and looked at her brother. She prepared herself for an excuse or for him to request that they not ask him to go. She’d seen changes in him but a lifetime of experience told her that Arden would not willingly confront Ruslan.

“I will be there,” he said. What surprised Evelyn the most were not his words but the lack of hesitation and the confidence with which he spoke. Evelyn just nodded at him, biting her lip harder to keep the tears from slipping over. Her chest was tight with emotion when Adrienna cleared her throat. All eyes turned to the girl. 

“I would like it if you all came,” she said, then hesitated. “But I was wondering...I was thinking perhaps, that it would send a stronger message if it were just us - the women of the family - who bring the charges. If you were there, Father, Commander, it might look like we were depending on another man. I want him to know it was the women of House Trevelyan that took him down.”

There it was again - that glitter of fierceness in her niece's eyes. Evelyn barely contained a laugh as Cullen’s mouth dropped open and a sly smile spread across Leliana’s face. Elizabeth raised a hand to cover her smile and the look of pride on Arden’s face was enough to melt Evelyn’s heart; to make a tear finally escape her eye. 

“I think that is an excellent idea, Addie,” Arden said. His daughter nodded, her expression sure and fierce. 

“I will be ready to leave whenever you say, Aunt Evelyn,” Adrienna continued, acting so much older than her fifteen years. “But now I must go meet Heir for my lesson.”

When the door was closed and Evelyn was sure Adrienna couldn’t hear her, she burst out laughing. Elizabeth joined her. Even Leliana chuckled. Cullen stared at the door the girl had closed behind her for several long moments before looking at Evelyn. 

“She scares me a little,” he said, sending Evelyn and Elizabeth into another fit of laughter. It didn’t escape Evelyn how incredible this moment was. To be with her family, handling Ruslan, but still able to find joy. It was something she could never have imagined. 

“She should,” Leliana said, amusement dancing in her eyes. “She has her mother’s grace and wit as well her aunt’s grit and skill with a blade.”

“Maker, help me,” Arden muttered, eliciting yet another round of laughter for the group. When they had all settled, Arden looked at Evelyn. “When will we leave?”

“We’ll need a fortnight, I would imagine,” she said. “Leliana needs to sort out some things with the King and I have a few...preparations of my own.”

“And we will all go together?” Elizabeth asked. Evelyn nodded.

“All of us here, Adrienna, Rawin, and Adalyn,” Evelyn confirmed. “We go as a family.”

Arden smiled at her. The first real smile she’d seen on his face since he got to Skyhold. 

“As a family,” he echoed.

 

_____________________

 

Denerim was dark when they arrived, slipping in through a side gate. Leliana led them through the city, ducking through secret doors and hidden alleyways, her time with the King and Queen during the Bight giving her an intimate knowledge of the city. They had been slinking about the city for nearly an hour when Leliana opened a door and they were inside the castle. Evelyn just shook her head. Of course, Leliana knew a secret entrance to the castle. 

They made their way to a small room down the narrow hallway they had entered. There were shelves lining the walls holding baskets of produce, bags of grain and more. A torch burned on each of the four walls, lighting the small room well. Standing in the back, in front of another door, stood the King and Queen of Fereldan. They greeted Leliana with hushed voices, kisses on cheeks and fond smiles as Arden pulled the door closed behind the Trevelyan party. Cullen, Evelyn noticed hung back until Allistar greeted him.

“Cullen, this is a surprise.” Allistar held out a hand. “It’s good to see you.”

“The pleasure is mine, Your Majesty, My Lady.” Cullen’s voice was formal and tight, as was the Queen’s expression. 

“Come,” the Queen said. “We’ll show you to your rooms.”

A flicker of light flashed in the air and a small glowing orb appeared. Few ever spoke of the fact that Ferryn Cousland Therin was a mage and she rarely reminded them. Now though, her grey eyes were fixed on Cullen, watching for a reaction. If Cullen noticed the scrutiny, he did not show it. Nor did he react to the magic. But the Queen’s test of her partner irritated Evelyn. Just as she opened her mouth to say something, Leliana grasped her arm. 

“Perhaps we can wait until we don’t have an audience,” she whispered into Evelyn’s ear. It was subtle but the Queen noticed. Her eyes locked onto Evelyn’s, who held the gaze steadily, not bothering to hide her irritation. 

“Well, alright then,” the King said awkwardly, gesturing toward the door behind him. “Your rooms are this way. Leliana was quite clear that no one was to know you were here so we’ve set you up in one of the more removed suites.”

Evelyn made a point of leading her group, stepping ahead of Leliana even though the spymaster gave her a warning glare. If there was to be a power struggle with the Queen, Evelyn had no intention of leaving any question as to who she would be dealing with and the expectations the Inquisitor had for the treatment of her party. She could tell they were in a little-used part of the castle, for the air was a bit musty, the rugs a bit dusty and there were more cobwebs then she’d expect in the corners. But there were no guards posted anywhere and the air was still and quiet. They only needed to make it through the night and to midmorning tomorrow without anyone knowing they were there. 

The King opened an old wooden door that creaked on its hinges and led them into a small common room. There was a fire burning in the fireplace at the back of the room with a little sitting area in front of it. At the center was a large table with enough chairs to accommodate their party. In one corner was a small dressing area, complete with a screen and a full-length mirror. In the other corner, a reading nook with a narrow bookshelf burdened with dusty volumes, and a wing-chair. If Evelyn weren’t so irritated with the Queen she would have loved it. 

“Your possessions arrived two days ago. They are in a chest behind the dressing screen,” Allistar said, motioning to the four doors spaced out along the wall. “ There are four rooms. Some of you will have to share, but its the best we could do while keeping you removed from the rest of the court.”

“I’m sure we can manage, Allistar,” Leliana cooed. Evelyn made no motion to move but Elizabeth whispered her thanks to the King and Queen with a small, graceful curtsey and then ushered Adrienna, Arden, Rawlin and Adalyn off to the bedrooms. She, Arden and Adrienna took a room. Rawlin and Adalyn the other, leaving Evelyn, Cullen, and Leliana standing in the common area with King Allistar and Queen Ferryn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really struggled with whether or not to accuse Ruslan of sexual abuse in this story. I feel so strongly that those who commit such acts should be held accountable for their actions; that as a society, we must support victims by allowing them to confront their abuses (if they so choose) without facing retaliation or humiliation. At the same time, this story takes place in a culture where a woman who was abused could be seen poorly by others even though she was never at fault. Thus, I chose not to have Adrienna accuse Ruslan publicly of sexual abuse b/c I felt that to do so could affect her poorly for years to come and I believe that gives the abuser too much power over her future and I didn't want that for her. I settled for attempting to put Ruslan in a place where he can never hurt anyone again. Hopefully, we succeed.
> 
> As I have said previously, I had no intention of these issues ever coming up in this story. But as we writers know, sometimes the story takes on a life of its own. I try my best to be respectful and present these issue in a way that is as positive, encouraging, and uplifting in the end as such situations can be.


	44. Chapter 44

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cullen makes a long overdue apology and Evelyn prepares to confront her brother

The tension in the room was thick. Despite her irritation with the Queen, Evelyn mentally kicked herself. She should have thought about this; anticipated the reunion of Cullen and the Hero of Fereldan. The same woman who had freed him from Uldred’s clutches; the same mage in front of whom Cullen had begged for the Right of Annulment all those years ago. 

Ferryn Cousland Theirin was not a large woman but she had a formidable presence. She stood next to King Alistair chin out, shoulders back, sharp grey eyes on Cullen. Once again, she opened her mouth to say something but stopped when Cullen caught her eye and gave her a nearly imperceptible shake of his head. Evelyn snapped her mouth shut and grit her teeth. It seemed he wanted to handle this himself. 

“It’s good to see you doing so well, Cullen,” Alistair said, clearly uncomfortable as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, eyes flickering between Cullen, Ferryn, Leliana, and Evelyn. Cullen nodded his head.

“And you, Your Majesty,” Cullen’s voice was steady and calm now, the tightness that had been their earlier gone. It was almost as if he’d anticipated this meeting, been preparing himself for this moment, despite the tension in his voice earlier. Of course, he had. He knew the two of them would be assisting with Ruslan. Evelyn had just been too preoccupied with herself to think about it. 

“Oh, Alistair is just fine.” The King snorted a little and waved Cullen off. Evelyn felt a smile tug at her lips. And then Cullen turned to Ferryn and Evelyn clenched her hands into fists, digging her fingernails into her palms to remind herself to stay quiet.

“My Lady, I believe I owe you a long overdue apology. My words and behavior at the Circle during the Blight, though born of pain and fear and naivety, were inexcusable. I understand if you cannot forgive, but I want you to know that I no longer hold those views.”

Maker take her if Evelyn’s throat didn’t tighten at Cullen’s words. Her eyes stung with threatening tears. His voice was so smooth, his words so heartfelt. The Queen’s expression did not change, however, until Alistair whispered under his breath.   
“Ryn…”

The Queen drew in a deep breath.

“You threatened me with tranquillity.” Ferryn’s voice was high and smooth. Her eyes remained on Cullen’s face as she spoke. “More than once.”

“People do stupid things out of fear,” Cullen said. Evelyn pressed her lips together to hide a smile when he glanced at her. Ferryn finally changed her expression, tilting her head to the side. Finally, she heaved a deep sigh. 

“Yes well, I suppose that was more than ten years ago. From all reports your professed change in attitude is true. Consider it put behind us, Commander. Besides, it would seem that apologies are the order of the day,” she said, her eyes finally shifting back to Evely. “As we owe your Inquisitor one for our behavior at Redcliff. I’m afraid we were none too gracious.”

Evelyn didn’t respond right away. She still didn’t like that the Queen had tested Cullen. But she had to admit that if someone had threated to rip her spirit away from her body for something she didn’t do several times, she would have tested them too. Still, she didn’t want the Queen to think that it was okay to pull a stunt like that with one of her people again. So she waited until she could see the wariness creep into the Queen’s expression; the concern that perhaps her action had caused tension with the Inquisition, before shrugging her shoulders. 

“Well, a couple of upstart heretics had just time traveled through a tear in the Veil, exposing hundreds of mages to demons from the Fade, so I’d say your irritation was warranted,” Evelyn said. “I would have kicked me out too. Let’s just agree that both parties have fucked up a bit and move on.”

For a moment the room was silent as the eyes of the King and Queen grew wide with surprise. Then, at the same time, they both burst out laughing, and just like that, the tension was gone. Ferry pressed a small hand to her stomach and sucked in several deep breaths. 

“Oh, you were right, Leli,” she gasped. “I do think we’ll get on quite well.”

“Have I ever been wrong?” Leliana grinned. The Queen rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“No,” Alistair said. “And it’s more than a little annoying.”

“We’ve seen to gathering what Leliana said you’d need,” Ferryn continued. “Ali and I will bring it in the morning. There should be some snacks for you in your rooms.”

“It’s mostly cheese,” Alistair said a bit abashedly. “We seem to have an overabundance.”

“What’s a late night snack without cheese?” Evelyn offered, getting a smile from both Alistair and Ferryn.

“I had a good feeling about you, Inquisitor.” The King grinned, clearly pleased. They said their good nights, Leliana excusing herself to finish up some work. Silence settled between Cullen and Evelyn as they readied for bed. 

Laying on their sides, face to face, Cullen reached up and brushed a piece of hair from her forehead. 

“Hey,” he whispered. Evelyn smiled in the dark. 

“Hi,” she whispered back. “Are you okay? That was quite the apology.”

“It was long overdue,” Cullen said, fingers tracing down her bare arms, leaving goosebumps in his wake. “It felt...good to say it. And to tell her I’ve changed. I hope she believes me.”

“Hm, well, if she has as much sense Leli says she does, she will.”

“How about you?” He asked. “Tomorrow is a big day.”

“I’m not sure,” Evelyn admitted “I’ve been running and hiding from him for so long, its hard to imagine what it will be like to live when he can’t get to me. But...it doesn’t quite feel real. Almost like I’m waiting or something to go wrong; for him to get away; for him to know this is coming and planned accordingly.”

Cullen pulled her into his chest and she inhaled his scent, letting it calm her. She felt him press a kiss to the top of his head. 

“Everything is in place.” His breath tickled her temple as he spoke. “All should go as planned. And if it doesn’t, we’ll figure it out together, just like always.”

Evelyn couldn’t speak past the lump in her throat. Instead, she pressed herself deeper into his embrace and let him hold her until she fell asleep.

 

___________________________________

 

Morning came much too quickly after arriving in the middle of the night following several days of travel. Cullen was beginning to find that traveling grew increasingly hard on him the older he got, giving him pain in his knees and an ache in his back. It was rare that Cullen thought of the ten year age difference between him and Evelyn but when she sprang out of bed on mornings like this, it was impossible to forget. By the time he pulled himself out of bed, put on his formal wear (by request of the Inquisitor) and made it out to the common room around which their rooms were situated, everyone was already there. 

The bustle was chaotic and overwhelming. Rawlin, Arden, and Alistair at the table at the center of the room. Standing behind the King, Leliana and Ferryn spoke in hushed tones. In the small sitting area by the fireplace, Adalyn was helping Elizabeth with her clothes. It took Cullen a moment to realize that the noblewoman was wearing armor. 

Confused, Cullen looked for Evelyn, his eyes settling on her out the other side of the room. She stood in front of a mirror, Adrienna in front of her. He could see their lips moving as Evelyn twisted the girl's hair into braids, but he was too far away to hear what they were saying. Adrienna was wearing her own leather armor and Evelyn had on armor he had never seen. 

Looking back at the table, he saw that Arden, Rawlin, and Alistair were all in formal wear rather than armor, just as Cullen was. The Queen was in her own set of armor, the royal crest on the chest. Cullen chuckled to himself and approached the table. 

“A bit slow out of bed this morning, Commander?” Leliana cooed at him, eyes twinkling with mischief. Cullen swore the woman could read minds. As he had learned to do, he ignored the prodding. 

“Was the armor your idea, or hers?” He asked instead. Leliana chuckled. 

“Hers, of course,” the Spymaster said.

“And I do wish she had suggested if sooner,” Elizabeth joined the growing group around the table. She ran her hands down her stomach, fingers, trailing over the leatherwork. “I feel so...powerful.”

The noblewoman smiled, eyes shining.

“I think maybe, I will never wear a dress again,” Adrienna chimed in as she approached with Evelyn. Cullen noticed that Evelyn had done the girl’s hair the same way she did when going into battle - a tiny brain on each side pulled into a larger braid that ran down the middle. The same way Evelyn had worn her hair the day they met almost two years ago now.

“Well, we can discuss that at a later time,” Elizabeth said as the three Trevelyan women fell into line. Their armor all matched - black leather armor, beautifully crafted with dragon scale accents and the Trevelyan coat of arms pressed into the crest. Evelyn wore a large gold crest on her right shoulder bearing the symbol of the Inquisition, holding a cape of deep forest green that fell down her back until it barely brushed the floor behind her. 

“You all look terrifying,” Rawlin offered. All three of them grinned at him. 

“You look incredible,” Arden stood up and went to give his wife and daughter a kiss on the cheek. Then he stood in front of his sister, hands on her shoulder. For a moment, there was a thick silence and then Arden whispered something to her. Cullen saw Evelyn swallow hard, her eyes grew moist as she nodded her head. Arden gave a nod back and then stepped back. 

“Are we ready?” Queen Ferryn asked. 

“I’ve been ready for half my life,” Evelyn said. “Let’s get this bastard.”


	45. Chapter 45

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's about damn time.

Cullen, Ruslan, Arden, and Adalyn watched from a balcony above the throne room. The first part of the hour progressed as a normal day in court would. King and Queen heard requests and pleas. The nobility mingled and chatted along the sides of the chamber. Cullen spotted Ruslan roaming his way through the crowd; watched as money and parchment changed hands, not willing to let the man out of his sight, just in case something did go wrong. Nearly an hour passed before Cullen the first of Leliana’s people start to tail the Bann. At the end of another hour, he could spot five Inquisition Scouts and five Fereldan scouts monitoring Rusland as he continued on with his business.

When the crier's staff pounded on the stone floor of the hall, indicating an important announcement, the entire room fell silent. At the end of the hall, a large set of doors swung open. Every noble in the room craned their necks to see who was coming while Cullen watched the Inquisition and Fereldan scouts carefully surround Ruslan Trevelyan. 

“You Majesties! Lords and Ladies! Please welcome…” the crier shouted and then paused for dramatics. Probably as instructed by Leliana. “Inquisitor Evelyn Trevelyan!”

The room erupted in whispers and murmurs as Evelyn appeared at the door, face stern, eyes fierce, shoulders back, and chin up. Her boots clicked loudly with every step on the stone floor. The ceremonial Inquisition sword hung at her hip. She looked extraordinarily formidable. As did Elizabeth and Adrienna who followed closely behind, flanking the Inquisitor.

Cullen looked back at Ruslan to see the shock on his face transform to fury. Then, as Evelyn spotted him in the crowd and pierced him with her gaze, transform into hatred.

The three women stopped in front of the dais upon which the King and Queen sat in their thrones. Elizabeth and Adrienna knelt gracefully. Evelyn dipped her head respectfully but did not bow. 

“Inquisitor Trevelyan, to what do we owe the honor?” The Queen spoke. They had opted for her to speak first, as she was significantly better at playing these games then the King. Evelyn took a moment to respond.

“I come to present your Majesties with evidence of one who has committed crimes against Fereldan and its people.” Her voice was strong and steady, any indication of nerves or emotion gone. The look of surprise on Alistair’s face was almost comical, but Queen Ferryn simply raised an eyebrow.

“And who do you accuse of such crimes?” The King asked. Evelyn drew her shoulders back and stuck her chin out. 

“Bann Ruslan Trevelyan.”

Below him, Cullen watched the scouts close in on Ruslan before the man could understand what was happening. It was all so precisely planned and enacted; every word, every motion carefully crafted to keep the situation under their control. The hall erupted once again, cries of surprise and shock echoing off the walls. Though the Trevelyans were Free Marchers, they had many dealings with the Fereldan nobility. Cullen had seen the evidence; seen the crimes many of the people in this room had committed with the man standing now accused. 

The scouts handed Ruslan off to Fereldan soldiers - ones chosen by the Queen - who drug the Bann to the dais. Elizabeth and Adrienna moved to the side of the aisle, leaving the siblings standing along before the King and Queen. Ruslan shook off his captors and glared at his sister.

“What is the meaning of this spectacle,” he spit. Evelyn simply glanced at him cooly and then turned her attention immediately back to her co-conspirators sitting on their thrones. 

“Do you have proof to offer us?” Ferryn inquired. Without a word, Evelyn raised a hand and Leliana materialized from behind Elizabeth. It created a tense atmosphere - the Inquisitor’s confident silence; the appearance of the infamous Sister Nightengale offering a thick stack of documents as evidence. Cullen could not longer see Ruslan’s face but he saw the man’s body go rigged at the sight of the papers. Alistair motioned to Earl Eamon, who stood behind the King.

“Uncle, if you would,” he said. Eamon stepped around the throne to accept the stack of documents Leliana offered. Silence reigned as everyone in the room anxiously waited as the Earl read the accusations, his face growing sterner by the moment. It was another stroke of genius by Leliana and Evelyn to have the Earl read rather than the King. Eamon was a neutral party; no one would be able to call the relationship between Leliana and the King or Queen into question. When the Earl looked up, his steely gaze settled on Ruslan.

“The accusations are serious, You Majesty, and the evidence….substantial.”

“Please read the accusations to the court.” Alistair had settled into his role now, his voice low and stern. 

“Bann Ruslan Trevelyan stands accused of thievery, smuggling, murder, engaging in the slave trade, and solicitation of treasonous acts against the Throne of Fereldan.” Eamon’s statements caused a small roar of whispers in the hall and Ruslan grew visibly weak in the knees. “Contained in these documents are statements against the accused and documentation of said crimes dating back several years.”

“These are serious accusations,” Alistair said, looking at Evelyn. “Against your own brother. Why raise them?”

“I have known of my brother’s treachery for years, Your Majesty, but being under his roof afforded me little opportunity to prove what I knew to be true. The Inquisition, however, has many resources and as part of my duty as Inquisitor to help protect Thedas, I have brought many criminals to authorities. Ruslan’s crimes have affected Orlais, the Free Marches, even Rivanai, but only in Fereldan has he actively engaged in attempt to destabilize the throne. Thedas cannot afford such crimes in times of peace and it certainly cannot afford them now. When this evidence came to light, I knew it had to be presented to you.”

“Bann Trevelyan, what have you to say in response to these accusations?” Allistar demanded, sounding genuinely angry. Heavy silence hung in the air for several long moments and then Ruslan moved. Cullen watched it happen as if in slow motion; wanted to shout a warning to Evelyn but couldn’t get the words out quick enough. Ruslan reached for his belt and drew a dagger so fast, the soldiers didn’t have time to react. Cullen stood frozen on the spot, sure that he was watching the death of his lover as Ruslan’s dagger arched toward her throat. 

But he should have known to never underestimate his Inquisitor. With steady ease, almost as if she had expected the move, Evelyn leaned back. The dagger passed in front of her, slicing only through air, and then she struck. One hit just under Ruslan’s outstretched arm caused him to drop the dagger; the second hit to his throat cut off the cry of anger and pain from her brother, and a kick to the side of his knees dropped the man to the ground. Once again, Evelyn brought the man to his knees in front of her. It was over before hardly anyone knew what was happening. 

Allistar and Ferryn were on their feet, he with his sword in hand and she with her staff, ready to defend Evelyn. The soldiers who had drug Ruslan off were now standing over him with their swords drawn and pointed at his neck. Elizabeth stood next to her sister-in-law, eyes wide, hand pressed to her stomach. Adrienna, though, had drawn her dagger and stepped up next to her aunt, ready to defend if need be. Evelyn stood over her brother, cool hatred in her eyes. 

“That temper always did get you in trouble, Brother,” she said. Then she looked up at the King and Queen, who seemed to snap back to attention. 

“Bann Trevelyan, for attacking the Inquisitor in my hall you will be stripped of all titles and land,” Allistar ordered, his voice booming off the walls. He was truly angry now, something Cullen had only ever seen in the aftermath of the battle at the Tower when he’d asked for the Right of Annulment. “The Queen and I will go through the accusations and evidence before we decide your fate. Court will be adjoined until further notice.”

Ruslan struggled against the soldiers, even as he still grasped at his throat. The King and Queen rose and exited the room, letting the nobles burst into hushed conversations. 

“Evelyn,” Ruslan rasped through his injured throat. “Stop this. Stop this now!”

In response, the Inquisitor turned her back on the man beindraggedug to the dungeons and marched out of the room, Elizabeth and Adrienna following her once again.


	46. Chapter 46

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Consequences

Evelyn propped her feet up on the damp wall and leaned back in the creaking, old chair. The air was cold and moist down here; the silence almost deafening. In his cell, Ruslan glared at her, his circumstances not dampening any of his hatred. Not that she cared. She wasn’t down here to attempt to draw any sort of remorse or regret out of him; she didn’t believe there was any there to find. All that she wanted out of this conversation was for him to know that she knew what he’d done to their niece. She’d wanted to protect Adrienna from any stigma by making the accusations public, but the girl deserved for the accusation to be made, even if it were just between Evelyn and Ruslan.

“You should know, that in the last week several of your associates have come forward with evidence against you,” she said after several minutes of heavy silence. “Including two with evidence that you conspired to assassinate the Queen. Tell me, Ruslan, was it because her policies protecting the alienages was interfering with your slave trade as your friends said? Or was it because she was a mage and you just couldn’t stand to see a mage, a woman, with such power?”

“I don’t answer to you,” he growled at her. His voice was rough with disuse. The guards told her he hadn’t spoken a word since being brought down here. Evelyn dropped her feet to the floor and leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, hands clasped in front of her. Ruslan sneered at the position - one that he surely saw as too masculine for a lady. Evelyn clenched her jaw.

“Actually, you do,” she said. “The King and Queen are deferring to me.”

There was no change in his expression; no indication of concern or fear; no sign that he was going to beg her for mercy. She snorted and leaned back in the chair crossing her arms across her chest, unable to tell if it was courage that drove him at this moment or if he simply didn’t believe that she’d do it; that she’d have him killed. 

“What happened to you?” She asked, her voice quieter than she liked; with more emotion than she was aware she was feeling. “I remember you before Killian was taken away. You were...different.”

Ruslan looked away from her then; stared at the wall of his cell for several long moments, his jaw clenched, his fists balled at his sides. 

“I got stronger,” he said, his voice tight. “I got smarter. Killian made a fool of me - knowing for years that he had magic and lying to me; mother and father abandoned me…”

“They died, you asshole,” Evelyn growled at him. But he either didn’t hear or didn’t care because he kept talking.

“They left me with Grandfather. You know what he was like. What choice did I have but to become like him; to become stronger than him?”

For a moment - for the briefest of moments - Evelyn felt sympathy tug at her heart. She did know what her Grandfather had been like. She’d seen the black eyes he gave Ruslan; she knew the cruelty that had lived in the old man’s heart. And then she pushed it all away. 

Because it didn’t excuse Ruslan; didn’t excuse anything he’d done. She’d faced her Grandfather and she’d made a different choice. As had Rawlin and Killian and Lincoln, and eventually, Arden. 

“You had choices,” she spat at him, standing up and stalking to the cell door. “You could have chosen not to be like him; you could have chosen to be better.”

“I was better!” Ruslan jumped to his feet and met her at the door. “I did everything for this family! For our family!”

“Oh yeah?” Evelyn sneered. “Does that include beating your sister? Sleeping with your brother's wife? Touching your niece?”

He pulled back from her like he’d been slapped in the face. Evelyn wanted to scream with rage. Her body shook and the Mark began to flare. 

“Fuck you, Rusland. You didn’t do any of this for our famiy. You did it for yourself; for your pleasure; for your power. You almost ruined this family because of it; you almost ruined my life; you almost ruined Adrienna’s.” The Mark flared again and Evelyn forced herself to take several deep breaths. “You had choices, Rusland, and you made all the wrong ones. And now you’re going to pay for them. Because I will not let you hurt another person ever again.”

Ruslan stared at her for a moment before shaking his head. 

“You won’t do it,” he said. “You don’t have the balls to let them kill me.”

Evelyn snorted and stepped away from the cell, her stomach in a tight, painful knot. 

“Sorry brother, but I’ve always had more balls than you wanted me to.” 

Evelyn left him staring at her in the center of his cell. She kept her head high and the saunter in her step until she turned the corner. Once out of his sight, she sagged against the wall and dropped her head into her hands. She should feel relieved - happy even - that she was done with him; that justice would finally, finally be done. Instead, she just felt a crushing, suffocating saddness.

She stayed there for several minutes before making her way quietly out of the dungeon, thanking the guard at the door for giving her privacy. The walk back to their quarters was long. After the big announcment, they had moved into quarters more suiting of her station - or some such nonsense Leliana insisted on. She wished they were stil in their hidden rooms. Though Allistar had dismissed the court, most of the nobels had stayed in the city to see how the drama unfolded. Now every time she walked through the corridors she had to expend energy either greeting them, or ignoring them. Today though, she must have looked especially put out because no one attemped to stop her. 

Cullen, Leliana, Ruslan, Arden and Ferryn were all seated at the big table in the common room of the suite when she finally shut the door behind her. They fell silent when she entered. One look at her face and Cullen was on his feet, but she waved him off. 

“I can’t be the one to pass judgment,” she said, joining them at the table and falling into a chair. Cullen quitely took the chair next to her. She looked at Ferryn. “I has to be you and Allistar.”

“You know that if we confirm the evidence of treason, he will be executed?” Ferryn kept her voice soft but there was no pity in it; no regret. 

“Yeah,” Evelyn croaked and cleared her throat. “I know.”

“What did he say?” Arden asked quietly. Evelyn shook her head. 

“Nothing that matters.” She sighed. “He tried to justify it; tired to tell me that he had no choice in being this way; that it was the only thing he could do to survive Grandfather.”

“Bullshit,” Rawlin growled. “We all had to survive Grandfather.”

“Like I said, nothing that matters.” Evelyn heaved a sigh and leaned her head back against the chair. She felt Cullen grasp her hand in his and squeezed back gently.

“What do you need?” He asked. Evelyn cracked an eye open. 

“About five shots of whiskey and The Iron Bull so I can beat the shit out of him,’ she said. Cullen chuckled.

“The whiskey shoud be easy enough.” Arden stood up. “And, we’re not Iron Bull, but Rawlin and I were just getting ready to run some drills. Between the two of us, perhaps we can made a sufficient substitute.”

“Oh wonderful,” Rawlin complained even though he stood too. “As if she hasn’t broken my nose enough times already.”   
  


______________________________

 

Cullen watched from the balcony as the siblings sparred in the King and Queen's private training yard. He was pretty sure the brothers were regetting their offer. There may be two of them, but neither man fought with the same ferocity as Evelyn. She kept them on their heels, moving faster than either could keep up with, darting and ducking back and forth between them. Anytime either of them landed a blow, she bounced back twice as hard.

He loved watched her fight; watching her move in her deadly dance. Since that first night he had found her throwing her knives in the woods outside Haven, he’d been enchanted by her; by the way the muscles moved under her skin; the way her feet seemed to barely touch the floor; how she moved so lightly but struck with such strength. More than that, he was enthralled by who she was - intellgent, witty, honest, kind, fierce, strong. He knew she was struggling with Ruslan’s immeninent conviction. Even if she had planned it, even after a lifetime of abuse, she took no joy in him committing death. The evidence of the assassination attempt on the Queen had been thin when they presented their inforrmation to Allistar, and even though they all knew there was a chance more would come to light, Evelyn had been devestated. She'd tried to hide it but he knew her too well. 

“I see the Inquisitors quick reaction to her brothers attempt on her life in the throne room was no fluke.” Allistar’s voice interrupted Cullen’s thoughts as he and Ferryn stepped onto the balcony. “Maker, she’s fast.”

“What I wouldn’t give to see her and Zevran spar,” Ferryn agreed with a chuckle. 

“Evelyn would win, if only becasue Zev would be too distracted by how attractive see is.” Allistar realized what he was saying as soon as the words escaped him and turned a bright shade of red before glancing wariy at Cullen.  “I mena….um...well, it’s hard not to notice!”

Cullen just laughed.

“I’d be lying if it wasn’t a factor in her many victories over me,” he said. Allistar relaxed and chuckled, turning to watch the fight again. “She doesn’t pull her punches, does she? Not even with her brothers?”

“Evelyn pulls no punches, ever,” Cullen said. 

“Would she with me?” The King asked. 

“Deffinately not,” Cullen snorted. “She’d probably go even harder on you than she would most. She doesn’t like authority figures.”

Allistar tipped his head to the side and studied the match below in silence for several moments. Finally, Ferryn snorted.

“Oh, go on.” She waved her hand down to the training field. “Go down there before you start sighing wistfully like a besotted princess.”

Allistar bounced on his feet like a chid and, with a grin, hurried off the balcony without another word. Ferryn watched him go and then rolled her eyes as she stepped up to stand beside Cullen. 

“He rarely gets a sparing partner willing to acutally contest him,” she explained. “They are all too afraid of hurting or embarrasing their King. Sten and Oghren are rarely around anymore and Eamon is getting too old to spar.”

“Well,  I can assure you that Evelyn will not care about any of that.”

They fell into a comfortable silence as they watched the matches down below. Cullen had resisted the temptation to appologize to the Queen again on multiple occasions in the last week. She had said it was in the past and he wanted to keep it that way. There were better ways to show his remorse than beating a dead horse. He simply made sure to show her the same respect as he woud any other, didn’t flinch when she used magic, and remained at ease when the other mages in the castle were around him. As it turned out, he didnt even have to think on it most days. Some mornings he woke raw from nightmares and it took a bit of adjustment. But that was no different than any other day in the Inquisition. It was not that he had doubted that he had changed but there was something comforting, almost empowering, in seeing it translated to an enviornment outside Skyhold.

“She really is quite remarkable, Your Inquisitor,” Ferryn said quietly. Arden had stepped away from the sparring to run drills with Allistar so that he could warm up, leaving Rawlin and Evelyn. Rawlin had swiched from a sword and shield to daggers, allowing him to move more quickly. He still could not match Evelyn’s speed, though, relying instead on trying to anticipate her moves and controlling her with his strength. He was marginally successful. 

“Quite,” Cullen agreed. “I don’t know where I’d be without her.”

“A feeling I understand well,” Ferry responded, her voice a bit softer. Cullen glanced over to see her eyes lingering on her husband. “I must admit I was wary of having her here, of helping in this endeavor, despite Leli’s assurances that we would get on well. In the end, I did it for her niece. It is not as if I haven’t had threats on my life before. But the more time I spend with her, watching her, the more I understand her...draw. She is..an egnima.”

“That she is.” Cullen glanced at the Queen again. “Much like another woman who once saved Thedas.”

Ferry laughed lightly. Below them, Allistar finally stepped up to face Evelyn, who simply gave him a terrifying grin before leaping at the King. It took Allistar several minutes to gain his footing with her, but eventually, he started holding his own. Cullen and Ferry chatted casually about a variety of menial things until Cullen decided he needed to put an end to the sparring before Evelyn hurt herself. 

“It truly has been a pleasure to have you here, Cullen.” Ferryn gazed at him steadily, her grey eyes kind. “I am so very glad that we can be friends now.”

“As am I, Your Majesty.” 

She waved him off with a light snort. 

“Ferryn will do just fine, Cullen.”

________________________________   
  


“Are we going to talk about what happened today?” Cullen asked. He sat in the large marble tub across from Evelyn, who sipped whiskey from her glass. Whiskey that had somehow appeared on their table when they had returned from the training yard. Cullen suspected the Queen had something to do with its appearence. 

“You mean how I bested your King?” She grinned at him, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. Cullen sighed and waited. After a moment, her grin faded and she looked away. “There is nothing to talk about. What’s done is done. He made his choices - repeatedly - and now he’s facing the consequences.”

“Consequnces which you brought upon him.” It was harsh, maybe, for him to say it but he knew from expeirence that it was better to draw out her emotions rather then let her surpress them until the imploded. Evelyn swallowed hard. 

“Yes.” She didn’t say anything for several minutes but Cullen coud tell that she was processing; trying to figure out how to put what she was feeling into words. So he sat silently, just waiting until she was ready. “I know what I did was right. I know that he is a criminal and that both as a citizen of Thedas and the Inquisitor, I did the right thing by reporting his crimes. But doing the right thing...sometimes it’s just shit. I wanted him to put away; I wanted to keep him huring anyone else; maybe I even hate him, but I didnt want him to be killed. I didn’t want to be the one responsible for his death.”

“You had no choice,” Cullen offered. Evelyn glared at him. 

“There is always a choice, Cullen. Just because all your choices are shit doesn’t mean you don’t have one. You know that better than anyone. You could have chosen to give into Uldred and you didn’t; you chould have chosen to stand with Meredith instead of against her, but you didn’t. He could have chosen to stand up to my Grandfather, no matter how shitty it would have been. And maybe he was just a kid, but so was I and I made a different choice. He could have too, he just didn’t. And now I’ve made the choice to hold him accountable. And its shitty, Cullen.”

Tears pooled in her eyes and Cullen reached for her, gently taking her arm pulling her to him. She set her glass on the table next to the tub and snuggled into his body, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek to his chest. Cullen kissed the top of her head and ran his hands down her back. 

“I went down there today to give him chance,” she whispered, her breath tickling his chest hairs. “I wasn’t going to, but how many times have I said that everyone deserves a chance, no matter what they’ve done? So, I went down there to see if he’d show any remorse. I was going to accept Alistar’s offer to pass judgment if he did - to sentence him to prision rather than to death, if only he showed some regret.

“But he didn’t show any. Not even a glimmer. Not even about Addie.” A sob escaped her and Cullen tightened his grip on her. “He just looked...surprised that I knew. But he didn’t care; he didn’t care about what he did to her, to me, to anyone.”

Another sob shook her. And then another as she pressed her face deeper into his chest. She curled herself into him and he clung to her, knowing that words woud do no good. He was reminded again how, despite everything, she was still so unfailingly kind and full of compassion. His egnima. 

When her sobs quieted, they climbed out of the tub. He gently helped her dry off and climb into bed, enjoying the rare opportunity she afforded him to take care of her. When he climbed into bed behind her, she pressed herself back into his body and he wrapped her in his arms again.

“Cullen?” She whispered.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.” He could hear the emotion in her voice; could tell that tears were threatening to spill over once again. He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck. 

“I love you too.”


	47. Chapter 47

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sort and not so sweet. But justice is done and it's time for Evelyn to move forward.

A fortnight later, the Trevelyan party - absent of Leliana who’d been called back to Skyhold - gathered in the empty throne room. Allistar and Ferryn sat on their thrones, their faces somber as Earl Eamon read the report he’d put together on the accusations against Ruslan. He stood guilty of thievery, smuggling, slaving and of the attempt on the Queen’s life.

“I’m sorry, Inquisitor,” Eamon said, his voice soft and his eyes sad. “But he will be executed.” 

Cullen watched Evelyn carefully but her expression remained neutral. Behind her, though, the other’s turned pale. 

“I appreciate your condolences, Earl, but I understood what the consequences could be.” Though her expression conveyed no emotion, her voice was tight. 

“How…” Arden cleared his throat. “How will it be done?”

“We don’t do public executions in Fereldan,” Eamon explained. “The King will execute the prisoner by beheading in the dungeons, away from the public spectacle, at sunrise in seven days time. In the meantime, I will make the formal announcement to the kingdom of the crimes Ruslan stands accused of. If at that time, compelling evidence is brought forward that our discoveries are wrong, we will revisit the sentence. However, considering the number of his associates that have come forward, I think that unlikely to happen.”

“You will do it yourself?” Evelyn looked at Allistar. The King nodded.

“What kind of King would I be if I sentenced a man to die but was unwilling to swing the sword myself?” 

“You, of course, do not have to come,” Ferryn continued. 

“What kind of leader would I be if I condemned a man to death but could not look him in the eye as he died?” Evelyn said, echoing Allistars comments just moments before. 

“I am not ashamed to admit that I have no desire to be there,” Elizabeth said. “In fact, I think it best if Adrienna and I return to Skyhold.”

“I will stay,” Arden committed. Rawlin nodded in agreement. 

“As will I,” he said. 

“I’ll send for Blackwall and Krem to escort you back,” she said. “They two of them should be able to get here in a day or two if the travel light.”

Evelyn looked at Cullen. He knew he should be getting back to Skyhold. 

“If you stay, I stay,” he said.

 

________________________________

  
  


As they suspected, no one turned up to defend Ruslan over the following week. Blackwall and Krem showed up three days before the execution with a stack of paperwork for both Cullen and Evelyn. The two left with Elizabeth, Adrienna, and Adalyn the following day.

As usual, Evelyn dealt with her emotions by pouring herself into her work and her training. She ate dinner every night with the King and Queen; she stood next to them when they called back the Court and announced their ruling on Ruslan Trevelyan; she made plans for them to visit Skyhold if they were successful in defeating Corypheus. 

When the day of Ruslan’s execution came, she was up before the sun, dressed in her armor, her face schooled into her noblewoman neutrality. She stood between Rawlin and Arden when they led their oldest brother in, each of them holding one of her hands. Cullen stood directly behind her, his hand pressed to the small of her back to remind her that he was there for her. Ruslan didn’t look at any of them when Alistair instructed him to kneel at the block. 

Evelyn flinched when the sword fell. She only waited until the King declared it done and then left the dungeons without a word, followed by Rawlin and Cullen. Arden stayed behind to oversee the arrangments for their brother’s body. Evelyn had asked that they are allowed to bury him at the family estate and Alistair had granted the request. Now head of the Trevelyan family, Arden would take Ruslan’s body back to the Free Marches.

They left an hour later, one chapter of Evelyn’s life closed, her focus now turned solely to the Inquisition and Corypheus. The main force would be back at Skyhold just outside of a fortnight. It was time to decide what to do next.


	48. Chapter 48

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you love your friends, you have to be honest with them, even if it's something they may not want to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a two-fer for you. Happy Sunday.

“Flemeth is Mythal?” Leliana kept a steady gaze on Morrigan, who was still pale from the encounter earlier in the day. 

“Are you sure Ferryn killed her when she went to retrieve the grimoire?” Morrigan demanded, gold eyes shining with irritation. “Did Ferryn lie to me?”

“I watched Alistair land the killing blow, Morrigan,” Leliana assured her. Whether the witch was too preoccupied or Evelyn just knew the Spymaster that much better, Morrigan did not catch the lie in Leliana’s voice. “But if she is Mythal - if she always was - then no mere man could kill her. Not even a Grey Warden.”

“This is...this is...there must be a way out of this.” Morrigan huffed and then turned to leave the two of them without another word. Leliana watched the witch go with a raised eyebrow.

“You think it wise to lie to a mage bound to an Elven goddess with the knowledge of the ancients in her head?” Evelyn asked, sitting down across from her friend and propping her feet up on the Spymaster’s desk. 

“She has not figured it out in ten years,” Leliana said. “I do not know why she would now with so many other concerns. Besides, had she been a true friend to Ferryn, she would have realized that she would never have killed someone without a good reason. Not even the Witch of the Wilds.”

“Well, I can certainly say that glad I didn’t drink the well,” Evelyn said. Leliana snorted in agreement.

“Have you spoken to Solas about all this yet?” Leliana asked, drawing a sigh from Evelyn. “No then. Still concerned?”

“You saw the reports from the temple, Leli. There were just too many similarities between him and the Guardians. The build, the speech, the mannerisms. He’s Elvhenan. And he didn’t tell me. My trust in him is...lessened.”

“We all keep parts of our selves hidden, no?"

  
“Of course, we do. But no something like this; not something this big; not something that could have helped us, saved so many lives.”

“He could have been sleeping, like the Guardians,” Leliana offered. “He very well may know nothing about Corypheus or the Fall.”

“Regardless, he should have come to me,” Evelyn insisted. She couldn't shake the feeling that Solas was hiding something from her - something more than being Elvhenan; something really, truly important. “He could have told me. I’ve welcomed a fucking spirit into my inner circle, a Qunari spy, a red Jenny - fuck, a confessed murderer! What in the Void do I care if he’s Elvhenan? I don’t and he knows me well enough to know I wouldn’t care. Which means he’s hiding something in connection to that; something he doesn’t want me to know. And I don’t have the luxury of trusting someone who is being honest right now.”

Leliana nodded her acquiescence. 

“Well,” the Spymaster continued. “Between Josie, Dorian, and I, the Inquisition should be able to find a contact, a scholar, someone who has studied the Elvhenan and the Creators. I could ask Vivene as well…”

“No.” Evelyn shook her head. “She’s still mourning - even is she’s trying not to show it. And even on the off chance she knew someone who studied the Dalish gods after a lifetime in the Circle, I don’t think she’d feel comfortable being involved in this. She’s too….traditional to buy into all this. Even after all we’ve seen.”

“You mean that the Old Gods and Creators actually exist and work in the world though we’ve heard nothing from the Maker in thousands of years?” The bitterness in Leliana’s voice was unmistakable. 

“Yes, that.” Evelyn sighed and ran a hand over her face. “I’ve never really been a believer but all of this...all that we’ve seen...you have to admit it makes you question things. Even you, Leli.”

Leliana looked away. It was a rare gesture that she made only when concerned that she couldn’t hide her emotions. After a few moments, she responded in such a typical and expected manner that Evelyn almost laughed. Really, she'd walked right into it.

“Is that why you do not support me as the next Divine?” Leliana asked, still not looking at Evelyn. Despite knowing it was her friend’s attempt at deflecting a difficult and emotional question, Evelyn answered anyway. 

“Your doubt, your desire to know and understand truth would actually be a great asset in acting as Diving. It is a trait that you and Cass share. I don’t support you for Diving because you are ruthless.”

Leliana’s eyes snapped back to Evelyn, indignation burning in them.

“And Cassandra is not?” She demanded.

“Cassandra is harsh, not ruthless.” Evelyn kept her voice calm and steady. She and Leliana rarely argued, despite having different views on many things. And as aloof as Leliana attempted to hold herself Evelyn knew this topic was personal; that it hurt her that Evelyn had voiced her choice for the Right Hand over the Left. “There is a difference. You’re too progressive right now. When we are done, Thedas will need to heal. The Chantry, despite how I feel about it, provides a way to help do that. Cass is the right balance of progressive and traditional; emotional and rational; she has little tolerance for bullshit but respects the traditions of Thedas.

“I know you, Leli. You believe strongly, adamantly, and because you acqure so much knowledge, you’re usually right. And if others will not adhere to your beliefs, put in a position of power, you will stop at nothing to create a Thedas you believe in. It is a Thedas that I want to see - desperately - but I am concerned about how you will attempt to bring it around. I'm not going to all this work to save Thedas just to see it torn apart again.”

The indignation in Leliana’s eyes had faded to irritation. She stared at Evelyn for a few moments and then looked out the window again. Evelyn watched the sight pulls and twitches of her face as she processed Evelyn’s words. 

“Besides,” Evelyn continued. “I need you. I have Bull and Blackwall to swing big swords around. You, my friend, are irreplaceable.”

Lelaina finally looked back at her, a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. They both knew Evelyn was joking about Cassandra being replaced - Evelyn hated the thought of her leaving - but the joke had the desired effect. She could the woman was still upset, though she understood Evelyn's reasoning.

“Ah, so we come to the truth of it,” Leliana finally said.

“Yes, I am terribly selfish,” Evelyn said, only half joking. “I'm the one doing the work to pull Thedas back together. The Changry doesn’t get my best asset.”

She winked and got a soft chuckle in response.

“Yes, to answer your initial question, as I know you won’t let it go,” Leliana answered. “It does make me question what I believe; what it is founded on. Perhaps it will be best that I will not have the distraction of running the Chantry so that we can pursue all of these things once Corypheus is dealt with.”

“I appreciate that you said ‘we.’”

“You said you needed me, no?” Leliana’s eyes sparkled. “Now you’re stuck with me.”

“Somehow, I think I’ll manage. Rawlin will be pleased, I’m sure.” Evelyn said. For a moment, a look of pure shock passed over Leliana’s face. Her eyes wide, mouth open. Evelyn enjoyed her triumph even as her schooled her expression once again. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed him slipping into your room late at night; or that he’s the only person besides me that calls you Leli; or the discrete glances at meals and meetings before you both conviently slip away for meetings an such. It’s been going on since we first came to Skyhold hasn’t it? You were the one in Rawin’s room when Cullen told me about the lyrium.”

“Well, I…” It was a rare occasion when Lady Nightenga was speechless. “I suppose I should not be surprised you noticed, considering your...talents.”

“He didn’t tell, if that’s what you’re fishing for, Spymaster.” Evelyn grinned as she pulled her feet off the desk and stood up. “I’m happy for you - for both of you - for however long you’re both happy.”

She didn’t wait for Leliana to respond, knowing the bard would not feel comfortable trying to answer yet another emotional sentiment. She just winked and headed for the stairs, blowing Dorian a kiss on her way down. Thankfully, Solas was not in the routunda when she passed through so she didn’t have to fake nice. But Cullen wasn’t in his office either. Instead, Evelyn found Jim standing watch by the open door. 

“Inquisitor.” Jim bowed his head slightly.

“Hey, Jim. Do you know where I can find the Commander?”

Usually, at this hour, Cullen was at his desk, armor off, sleeves rolled up, the sinking sun setting his office aglow as he pushed through the end of the day’s paperwork. 

“He said he was going to the Chaple, Ma’am,” Jim replied. “He sent the last of the letters to the families of the men that fell in the Arbor Wilds today.”

“Ah, I see.” Evelyn sighed. “Thank you, JIm.”


	49. Chapter 49

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things from a different perspective

He’d seen the chaos of battle more times than he could count. Small skirmishes with the Carta, bandit groups on the Wounded Coast, darkspawn in the Deep Roads, the Qunari siege on Kirkwall, the battle at the Gallows. But watching Skyhold erupt under the eery green glow of another tear in the sky was a new experience. 

Not because the soldiers were different and not because a hole in the sky or an Old God Magister was a tad bigger threat to all the world than a red-lyrium possessed Knight-Commander. It was because of the Inquisitor. Sure, he’d watched Hawke lead their merry band of misfits into battle countless times over the years. And she was good - just as good as Evelyn. But they were so, so different. Hawke immersed herself in the chaos, moving with the ebb and flow of the world around her, using her sarcasm and right hook to cope. Evelyn Trevelyn pulled the chaos under her control, made it bend to her will until it was molded into a weapon itself. 

He’d watched her stride from the War Room, advisors following, across the Great Hall, toward her chambers. 

“Josie, anyone who has available transportation needs to evacuate Skyhold immediately. The rest will move to the lower hall. Their men will have to provide for their protection. All Inquisition forces must be ready to defend the keep.”

“Yes, Inquisitor,” Josie responded immediately and scurried off.

“Cullen, ready our defenses. Leliana, I want eyes on the Temple. I want to know what I’m walking into.”

Her advisors worked quick, Varric had to give them that. By the time Evelyn reemerged from her rooms, clad in her armor, Josie had already cleared the Great Hall, nobles and scouts were pouring out of the main gates, and Cullen was shouting orders at his men. 

The click of Evelyn’s books echoing on the stone floor as she strode to the door of her keep, shoulders back, head high, eyes sharp, swords strapped to her back, midnight blue cloak flowing behind her was an image that would be forever burned in his memory. As would the moment she paused before the door, taking a deep breath, clenching and unclenching her trembling hands the way she did when she was anxious. She was the picture of bravery - knowing what was ahead, feeling fear and worry, but choosing to move toward the danger anyway. 

Varric picked Bianca up off the table, slung her over his back and approached his friend. 

“We’re with you, Raven,” he said, saddling up to her side. Evelyn looked won at him, tense humor in her expression. 

“You may come to regret that,” she said. Varric brushed her off.

“Nah,” he said. “Following Hawke into countless caves full of spiders and dragonling dung - that I regretted. Saving the world from a deranged Magister long past his lifespan - one that I’ve already helped kill once, by the way - no possible way I could regret that.”

Evelyn snorted a laugh, shaking her head. 

“Well, let’s hope not,” she said. Then she pushed open the door and stepped into the chaos.

 

The writer in him told him to hang back, to watch the Inquisitor work. He’d never been so thankful he listened to his writer’s intuition. The courtyard quieted and stilled as Evelyn walked down the stairs, stopping on the landing where she’d accepted the title of the Inquisitor more than two years earlier. She stood beside Cullen, and Adraste wasn’t that a picture - him in his red cloak, her in her blue one, standing beside one another, warriors and lovers. She took one quick look around the courtyard, gave a short nod in the general direction of her people and then turned back to her advisors. Below them, work continued. They all knew their Inquisitor - she was not the type to give a speech. Her nod was her acknowledgment of them - of their work and their efforts. She would spend her energy on planning, organizing, and doing all she could to make sure they all made it back. They knew and trusted that; they didn’t need a speech from her; they just needed her.

“Where are we?” She asked the Commander as Josie, Leliana, and Cassandra bound up the stairs to meet them.

“The main force has not yet returned from the Arbor Wilds but the forces we do have are securing the fortress.” Cullen’s voice was all gruff and business, as it had been in Kirkwall. There was none of the softness that it normally had when he spoke to Evelyn. “We’re prepared for this Inquisitor. Whatever men we do not need here, I will lead to the Temple myself to support your attack.”

Evelyn frowned and shook her head.

“You should be here, protecting those that can’t fight,” she said.

“Commanders should not stay back from a battle while sending their men to die,” Cullen argued. Evelyn’s frown deepened. “The best strategy is to the put main of our force at the Temple, drawing off any support Corypheus may  have so that you can focus on him. If you fall, protection here will mean little.”

“Cullen, we talked about this. I know you don’t want me to go after him without you, but…”

“The Inquisition may have many things from me,” Cullen interrupted her. “But it may not have this.”

Evelyn’s expression softened, her eyes so full of love and respect even Varric started to feel a little choked up. The Inquisitor bit her lip and held the gaze of her Commander, who’s eyes did not waver from hers. Finally, Evelyn nodded. 

“If you believe that is the best strategy, we will follow your lead.

“It’s a good strategy,” Cassandra said from behind Evelyn. The Inquisitor turned toward the three women as Cullen motioned for Jim.

“Report,” Evelyn demanded. 

“The Inner Circle is gathering at the gate,” Cassandra answered immediately. “We are ready to ride when you are. Dennet and the stablehands are readying the horses.”

“What nobles have the means are leaving,” Josie pitched in. “Those that remain have elected to have their protection help secure Skyhold rather than stand guard downstairs. It’s quite beautiful, really, all of them coming together like this. And it will free up more of our soldiers to go with you.”

“My scouts are on the move. Harding left before I could even find her,” Leliana offered. “Fast as she is, we should have word from her by midday.”

“Good.” Evelyn and Cullen continued to give orders. Varric just watched it all from the top of the stairs - The Lion and The Raven. He hadn’t seen it until now, until he stood and watched the two of them, directing, ordering, encouraging; didn’t realize that it was these two - despite the undeniable contributions of Leliana, Josie, and Cassandra - these two were the Inquisition. His men, her followers. They were the two that believed the most in what they were doing; they were the ones the others turned to when they needed help or encouragement. Somehow, out of the Council, these two had risen above the initial aims of the Inquisition - to end the Templar-Mage War and bring peace - and had become the beacons of hope for something new, something better.

“You coming or what, Dwarf?” Evelyn shouted over her shoulder as she started down the stairs, Cullen at her side, their cloaks fluttering behind them. 

“Wouldn’t miss it!” He shouted back and following the two of them into the courtyard. Oh yes, he’d be writing tales about these two for years. Provided he didn’t kick in the next few hours.


End file.
